


Milk and Honey

by wonderwheelzier



Category: IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, BDSM, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Mike Wheeler, Choking, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Facials, Fluff and Angst, Food, Happy Ending, Impact Play, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Lingerie, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Road Head, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Subdrop, Subspace, Sugar Daddy, Top Richie Tozier, Vibrators, Virginity Kink, btw they're in their late 20s, domtop!richie, for now, mike in dresses!!, only kind of tho?? we'll see lol, side jancy, side lumax, subbottom!mike, tinder au, will tag kinks as we go probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 68,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderwheelzier/pseuds/wonderwheelzier
Summary: Mike Wheeler did not like being alone. He didn’t like the quiet of his apartment, wishing he had someone to talk to. He didn’t like coming home from a stressful day and not having anyone to hug him. What he liked a lot less, however, was putting himself out there. Being alone was predictable; he was good at it. Dating, on the other hand, was complicated and messy and hard. Basically, Mike was bad at dating, and he didn’t like being bad at things.---Or, Mike Wheeler finds exactly what he didn't know he's been looking for.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 101
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> recommended listening for this entire fic: hit the back by king princess, talk too much by coin, and bobby tanqueray by lake street dive

Mike Wheeler did not like being alone. He didn’t like the quiet of his apartment, wishing he had someone to talk to. He didn’t like coming home from a stressful day and not having anyone to hug him. What he liked a lot less, however, was putting himself out there. Being alone was predictable; he was good at it. Dating, on the other hand, was complicated and messy and hard. Basically, Mike was bad at dating, and he didn’t like being bad at things. It was much easier to accept the no-risk situation of being alone than it was to go through all of the emotional stress and social gymnastics of dating only to end up on a date as horrible as the one he had been subjected to last night. 

It was a blind date, which, really, should’ve been a red flag from the start. But one of the players in his DnD group had set it up, and she’d seemed really excited about it, so Mike figured he might as well take the favor, since he wasn’t doing any for himself. As he’d predicted, it went horribly. The only thing he had in common with this guy was that they were both into physics, but this guy—Ryan—worked for the government making weapons, and Mike was never good at hiding his distaste, so that revelation had set the evening off to a pretty uncomfortable start. Then Mike brought up DnD, figuring that if that’s where they had a mutual contact Ryan would know something about it. But he’d only looked at him confused, and he gave an awkward laugh when Mike explained what it was. “Oh, right, I remember her mentioning that once.” When Mike had asked about Ryan’s hobbies, he learned that they pretty much all revolved around sports. He was a gym buff who ran marathons and watched primarily ESPN. He even tried to give Mike some “pointers,” as if Mike even owned a pair of running shoes. Suffice to say, it was a quiet evening, and they did not get dessert. To top it all off, Ryan shook his hand as they parted.

“He did not,” Max beamed as Mike recounted this, clearly enjoying the story. She and El were sitting on either side of Mike on his couch, a box of pizza and a bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of them.

“I swear to god,” Mike groaned. “You could tell he learned it in some business seminar, too.”

“Oh my god,” El said, covering her face. 

“Okay, I don’t mean to say that this is why you don’t go on blind dates set up by people who play DnD, but like, this is why,” Max said.

Mike rolled his eyes. “All of your closest friends play DnD.”

“El only ever played because she loves you.”

“You’re dating Lucas!”

“Doesn’t mean I’d go on a blind date he set up for me.”

“What? That doesn’t even— Actually, nevermind, this is not the point!” Mike said, waving his hands in the air as El giggled. “I’m not going on any blind dates anymore. I’m not going on  _ any  _ dates any time soon.”

“Mike, you can’t let one bad date keep you from finding someone,” El said, placing her hand on Mike’s arm.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, “I mean, when was the last time you got laid?”

Mike rolled his eyes as his response. Truthfully, he didn’t want to admit or even think about how long it had been. 

“See?” Max teased. “You need to make a Grindr or something.”

“I am  _ not  _ making a Grindr.”

“Why not? You’ve only got a few years left before you hit thirty, you should really milk the twink thing while you still can.”

“Oh my god, I am not a twink!”

“Okay, okay,” El giggled, leaning into Mike’s space to stop the other two from bickering. “We don’t need to know about your sex life. But, I do think you should consider making a Tinder.”

“I don’t need a Tinder,” Mike groused.

“Mike,” El said gently, “You’ve been hanging out with the same five people since middle school. If we haven’t found you somebody by now, I don’t think you can bank on meeting somebody through us.”

“And workplace romances are  _ messy _ ,” Max chimed in.

Mike had to admit, they both made good points. It must’ve shown on his face, because El perked up. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

A thousand different things ran through Mike’s mind. Wasn’t Tinder just a hookup app? But then, even if it was, was that a bad thing? Was Mike okay with hookups, or did he want a relationship? He definitely wanted someone constant, someone he could talk to and hold. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of a hookup, though, he just found them a bit awkward. He briefly wondered if twenty-seven was too old for hookups. Fuck, this whole idea was embarrassing.

But then he thought about how long it had been. Mike thrived on physical touch, and while El was always happy to hold him when he needed it, it wasn’t the same. He missed kissing, he missed sex, he missed cuddling. And hugs from his best friend who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend, while lovely and appreciated, really didn’t fill that hole. So he leaned forward and filled his glass with more wine. “Fuck it,” he muttered, tipping back his glass. He felt himself flush from the alcohol as El and Max cheered.

“Finding you love is officially my New Year’s resolution.”

“I think you’re a couple weeks late on that,” Mike grinned.

“We’ll do all the work in making your profile,” El assured him, breezing past his comment.

In a much more devious tone, Max added, “Oh, fuck yeah, we will!”

“Okay, okay, I’m definitely overseeing it though,” Mike said, unlocking his phone and pointedly handing it to El, not Max. 

“We’re not gonna find any nudes going through your camera roll, right?” Max teased.

“Clearly I don’t have anyone to send any to.”

“Well you can take nudes for yourself,” El said, her serious and reasonable tone hilarious for the context. Mike and Max both laughed about it together, and El shook her head and grinned in the way she always did when Mike and Max laughed at something she hadn’t meant to be funny.

“No, you will not find nudes, ” Mike clarified. He was a smart person. He had a password protected app for that kind of stuff. 

He tried to relax back into the couch, but he was too curious about what El was doing. She’d started by making a folder in his photos app, and she was now going through the folder of pictures of Mike that Apple automatically makes with its probably-insidious facial recognition technology. “Why are you choosing the pictures?” Mike butted in, battling Max for a view of the phone screen. 

“Because I’m attracted to you and you don’t like any pictures that are taken of you,” El answered easily. And, well. Mike couldn’t argue with that. She certainly had all of her credentials in line.

Mike realized quickly that he honestly didn’t have any interest in being part of the selection process, so he sat back while El and Max deliberated. “Definitely get a group picture or two in there so people can see how stupidly tall he is,” Max said.

“Gee, thanks,” Mike scoffed.

“Hey, stupidly tall is hot to a lot of people!”

“Loving the stupidly you keep on repeating.”

“You know I’m obligated. I can’t let you know you’re cute, your head’s too big as it is with all that nerd shit up there.” Max ruffled Mike’s hair to accompany this. El skillfully scooted away as Mike and Max swatted at each other for a few more moments, ever focused on her task. 

“Is it weird to have pictures with your ex on your Tinder profile?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mike and Max answered in unison.

El rolled her eyes. “But you look so good in this picture! And we were broken up and back to just friends when it was taken anyway. Also your ex is making your entire profile, so.”

“Hey, my ex is choosing pictures, she’s not making my  _ entire  _ profile.” Mike sat up to get back in on the action.

“Oh, now he’s invested,” Max teased. 

“Only because you’re gonna put something dumb or embarrassing.”

“I’m hurt you don’t trust me to make you look cool.” Mike shoved her playfully and turned his attention back to the pictures El had chosen. There were a lot of group photos; Mike was not the type to sit and have his picture taken by himself. Most of his solo pictures were ones El had begged him to let her take, and it showed in the painfully awkward smiles he gave the camera.

“Oh my god, look at this one!” El squealed excitedly as she showed the screen to Mike and Max. Mike flushed. It was a picture Jonathan had taken of him when everyone had come out to visit a few months before. They were on the pier, and it had been that time of day when all of the lights had come on but there was still some fading, golden light that made the whole world seem to glow. Jonathan had taken advantage of the perfectly timed lighting and had managed to get a pretty head-on picture of Mike beaming at something someone had said without him noticing his picture was being taken. Mike had to admit, he did look nice in it. The purples and pinks and golds reflected on his dark hair and illuminated his skin, highlighting his freckles. His cheeks had been sunburned, but the light made it look good somehow. Mike didn’t like most pictures of himself, but Jonathan knew what he was doing; he could make anyone look good. 

“That should definitely be the first one,” Max agreed. 

The group photo they picked was one from Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Will, El, Max, Steve, Robin, and Holly all had their arms slung around each other in their suits and dresses. Mike smiled at the memory of being a groomsman with Will, of the joint speech they’d given. Mike did like the suit Nancy had chosen for him, it looked nice, so he didn’t put up a fight with that picture either. The complaints started when Max picked a drunk mirror selfie that the three of them and Dustin had taken together on New Year’s Eve. 

“ _ No _ ,” Mike said firmly.

“Oh, come on! It shows your fun side!”

“You do look super cute in it, too,” El agreed.

“I look like an idiot!”

He was smiling with his tongue out, a bright pink drink in his hand, and he was wearing a baby pink shirt with the “...Baby One More Time” album cover on it. He was amazed the picture even came out clearly; El had taken it, and she was completely draped over Dustin.

El looked him in his eyes, clearly meaning business, clearly sincere, and said, “Mike, I promise I wouldn’t make you look stupid. We’re doing this because we love you!”

“I’m doing it because it’s fun to watch you squirm.” El smacked Max lightly on the arm for that one, but Max just laughed. 

Mike contemplated the picture for another moment. El was more of a trustworthy source than he was when it came to how attractive he was, a part of him deep down knew that. So while he didn’t think it was a good idea, if El was telling him it was a good picture, he figured he ought to believe her. Besides, what were the chances he was even going to use Tinder anyway? He was mostly doing this for El, to assuage her concerns over Mike’s abysmal love life. If it made her happy, he’d allow it. “Fine,” he conceded begrudgingly, much to El and Max’s joy. 

The next picture they picked was a little more reasonable. El, predictably, had taken it. They had gone to Six Flags recently when visiting Nancy and Jonathan in Massachusetts, and El had snapped a picture of him sipping a giant lemonade. He was looking up at the camera, unamused, but even he could admit that it had come out kind of nice. He liked the way his eyes looked, illuminated by the bright sun, and he had summer freckles on his nose that he was happy with. But still, he had to ask: “Isn’t it kind of bad for me to look annoyed?”

“Not if you still look hot,” El said with a playful grin.

“For real, look at those fucking blowjob eyes.”

“I’m gonna kick you out of my apartment.”

“And those  _ lips _ ! Damn, boy, you suck like that on the first date?”

Max was still cackling as Mike threw pizza crust at her. El added the picture to the folder she’d made. She didn’t say anything, but Mike could tell what she was thinking from the small smile she tried to hide:  _ She’s not wrong.  _ Mike blushed furiously and was more than happy to move onto the next picture. 

Their scrolling brought them to some pictures they’d taken at pride the June before. Mike was beaming in almost all of them, his bi flag draped around his shoulders. Mike blushed as El suggested they include one of them on his profile; he had worn a crop top that day, and while it had been super fun and liberating, looking at himself like that made him shift. He’d loved it, but what if other people thought it was weird? And he was wearing bright pink eyeshadow and holographic highlighter that El had put on. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“What?” El pouted. “You look amazing! I did your makeup so well!”

If he was being honest, it did look good. It was just so out of his comfort zone in any context other than pride. But then, this whole Tinder thing was out of his comfort zone; that was kind of the whole point. “Fuck it, fine, if you like it.” He rested his head on El’s shoulder, and she kissed his head before turning back to find more pictures. 

She and Max picked out another one where he thought he looked moody, but according to them it was hot. “It’s all about the does eyes and pouty lips,” El giggled, making kissy faces at Mike.

“Very demure,” Max agreed. She was giggling too, but Mike could tell they both sincerely thought it was a good picture, so he let them have it.

They also picked one of him with his cat, Charlie, insisting that pet pictures were always winners. Mike believed it; Charlie was adorable, and he wanted to weed out anyone who wasn’t into cats. 

The last picture was a simple one of him, Nancy, and Holly that Karen had taken. Mike was smiling super awkwardly, but Max and El said that it made him look tall. Mike wasn’t sure that was a good thing; he was a solid six inches taller than Holly, and eight inches taller than Nancy. He thought he looked gangly and ridiculous, but he supposed the drunk Britney shirt picture was even more ridiculous, and he’d already okayed that one. So what the hell, right?

If Mike thought that process had been difficult, he was in for a whole new kind of storm as they started on his profile and bio. It started off fine, just his name, age, pronouns, and job. He also made sure to pick an age range that he could be relatively sure wouldn’t include his students; he didn’t need any awkward interactions like that. But then he was mentioning DnD, and Max and El were immediately shutting him down.

“What? It’s like, my main interest!”

“I thought DnD was the whole problem with your dating life,” Max countered.

Ever the mediator between the two of them, El cut in, “You can mention it, I just don’t think that’s what you should open with. Think of something a little broader that you like, something that more people are also into. It’ll catch people’s attention, and could lead to a date.”

Mike mulled it over. “Arcades?”

“That’s a good one! Maybe just something simple, like ‘here for arcades and pizza,’ something along those lines? That could definitely lead somewhere!”

Mike shrugged. “Alright, I do like those things.”

“You should throw fruity vodka in there too.”

Mike’s face screwed up in confusion. “Why?”

“It says a lot about you.”

Mike wasn’t so sure that that was a compliment, but El was adding it anyway.

Then came the matter of picking a song for his profile. He had had no idea that this was gonna be such an elaborate process. “‘Just a Kid’ by Simple Plan,” Max said immediately. “Ooh, wait! ‘Welcome to the Black Parade!’ Some emo shit like that so they know what they’re getting into.”

Mike threw more pizza crust at her. 

“Damn, touchy. Would ‘Good in Bed’ by Dua Lipa be more the vibe you wanna give off?”

“Mike,” El said pointedly, “what’s a song you like?”

Mike shrugged. “Is it supposed to be like, romantic? Maybe Weezer’s cover of ‘Happy Together?’”

El and Max shared a look that told him that was the wrong answer. “Mike, honey, that’s gonna scare people.”

Mike thought about the lyrics a little more closely and decided that they definitely had a point. “Okay. Maybe, uh, ‘The Middle’ by Jimmy Eat World? People like that song, right?”

“Everybody likes that song,” Max agreed. But just as Mike was satisfied that he’d thought of a good one, she continued, “That’s such a boring choice, that’s not anyone’s favorite song.”

“It’s probably someone’s favorite song,” Mike grumbled.

“But is it  _ your  _ favorite song?”

It was not.

They settled on ‘Stay Young, Go Dancing’ by Death Cab for Cutie. Mike loved it, and El and Max said that it was recognizable indie and that the title made him seem fun. Mike hoped no one asked him to go dancing; despite liking the song, he was not trying to trip over himself on a first date. 

And then it was done. Mike had officially put himself out there, on an app anyone could download, for anyone in his selected age range and distance to see. El and Max giggled as they scrolled through other profiles, asking Mike if he liked anyone that came up, but Mike only made a few noncommittal sounds, curling in on himself. He wasn’t exactly interested in El and Max helping him choose who was cute and who wasn’t, who sounded interesting and who didn’t. Thankfully, El picked up on it quickly and changed the subject, ruffling his hair. 

Still, while he was glad they dropped it, his phone burned a hole in his pocket as they watched a couple episodes of some Netflix baking show. He tried to ignore it once El and Max went home. He tried to ignore it as he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. But as he was scrolling through his phone before bed, he couldn’t help his curiosity. They went to all the trouble… He might as well check it out, right? 

Ultimately, it wasn’t that interesting. He swiped right on a few profiles, but overall no one made his heart jump. The most he got was some anxiety about people not swiping back on him, knowing he’d have to live with that and be embarrassed about it.

He went to bed soon after. It was just a dumb thing they’d done to pass time anyway, and he had a campaign to put finishing touches on the next morning, lesson plans to finalize. 

His Sunday night DnD campaign went well; it made him happy, to be around people who got it, who were into the same things he was, and it was satisfying when his players finally did what he’d planned for them to do. The detours were fun of course, the bard trying to seduce their way out of every situation as usual, but they’d also gotten to a solid point in the narrative he’d planned, and that progress made him breathe a little easier. They’d also had a lot of laughs, which always made Mike glow with pride; his biggest fear as DM was boring his players, so it was always rewarding when he saw everyone having fun.

Going to work on Monday morning was less fun. Monday morning classes sucked; he was tired, his students were tired. Class started at 10:15, so he honestly couldn’t complain about waking up early, but Monday morning is Monday morning. Still, the lecture had gone well, and he’d even gotten some people to give some answers, which he considered a win, especially in a physics class where he very well could’ve just monologued the whole time. 

While his schedule kept him busy enough, it was still so fucking lonely. And this early in the semester he had a little more down time than he would’ve personally chosen for himself. Sure, it occupied his mind for the most part, but he was still making dinner alone, he still came home to an empty apartment. Not to discredit Charlie, but he wasn’t the best at conversation.

And it was more than just an emptiness, a quiet he did his best to fill with music and the white noise of the air conditioner. Mike wished there was someone to hold him. He wanted to come home to someone he could collapse on the couch with, someone who would stroke his hair and kiss his cheek and compliment him. Maybe make food for him sometimes—while he could make some pretty good breakfasts, Mike was more of a sandwich and microwave connoisseur when it came to lunch and dinner. Twenty-seven wasn’t old, but Mike had always been more ahead of himself than he should’ve been, and existential panic was not unfamiliar to him. Not to mention the metric fucktons of pressure he put on himself like it was his job. He  _ wanted _ . And he wanted  _ now _ . He wanted a hand to hold, and while he knew that sure, maybe he didn’t need someone in his life, maybe there shouldn’t be a rush, it scared him to think what could happen if he never chased what he wanted, too scared, too willing to settle. 

There were also other things he wanted. Things he thought about in his bed with his hand wrapped around himself, his eyes screwed shut, back arching. 

He broke by Tuesday night. He was lying in bed, and it was eating at him, the emptiness. He curled up on his side and thought about how nice it would be to be able to rest his head on someone’s chest, to have someone curled around him, kissing him gently as he drifted off. He thought about someone running their hands over him. And then there was Tinder, bright and open in front of him.

God, he really didn’t like this, but he knew El and Max were right. If he had to play this excruciating game, he might as well vet people on his own. There were a lot of cute people, a lot of people he didn’t think he’d be into. More girls with bible verses in their bios than he’d been expecting. Nothing that special. Sometimes he’d get that little  _ It’s a match!  _ message that made pride swell in his chest, pride that he immediately felt weird about. He was almost ready to give up, but he told himself,  _ one last swipe _ .

And. Holy shit. Thank god for that one last swipe, because he was suddenly met by the sharpest jawline he had ever seen. 

And it wasn’t just his jawline. In his first picture, he was wearing some bougie floral suit with a shirt that had a few more buttons loose than was probably necessary, but Mike was definitely not complaining. He also had long black curls that were held back in a bun, some strays falling loose. His nose was pretty prominent too, big and just a little crooked, like he’d broken it as a kid. It was charming, and hot. But what really made Mike’s mouth go dry were his hands. He was holding a drink, and it looked tiny compared to the hand that held it. Mike could feel his brain short circuiting. He scrolled through the other pictures on the profile and found that this guy had an amazing smile, huge and bright and charming. A big pair of thick framed glasses featured prominently in most of his photos, which made Mike smile; they worked for him. Mike also couldn’t help but notice that he was fucking  _ tall, _ taller than Mike, and definitely a little broader. He also had a very… bold fashion sense. Mike didn’t really form an opinion on that, too focused on how full and soft and dark pink his lips were. Mike nearly swiped right just from that, but his brain managed to override his dick and reminded him to read the bio. He hadn’t even read his name or his age yet.

His name was Richie, apparently, and he was twenty-nine. And his bio was a lot. Mike was almost intimidated by the length, but he was glad he read it. First of all, the occupation listed was “dom,” which piqued Mike’s interest, to put it mildly. Continuing on, his monster of a bio read, “my name is richie but you can call me daddy (; not the biggest taylor swift fan but babydoll, when it comes to a lover, i promise that you’ll never find another like me. i’ll make you laugh and come harder than you ever have before - as long as you’re good for me. 6’5 and 9 inches since I know you’re wondering.” Given all that was in his bio, it tracked that his song was “Talk Too Much” by COIN. 

Mike didn’t know why he was so flushed. Except that was a fucking lie, and he was achingly hard just from reading  _ if you’re good for me _ . From the daddy thing. The dom thing. The fucking 6’5 and 9 inches thing. Mike had come across other guys with their heights listed, but they all tried to play it off casually, like, “6ft since apparently it matters.” But Richie owned it with a confidence that had Mike feeling weak. It all had his heart racing, his head going dizzy. Even as a rational part of his brain that was still managing to flicker told him that it was all a little corny, that he was probably supposed to be laughing a bit, that this Richie guy had probably laughed while writing it. Even knowing that, he couldn’t help the way he responded, the way his heart was racing, the way his mouth was hanging open. He wanted it so goddamn  _ bad _ . 

So why wasn’t he swiping? 

Mike Wheeler was not a “fuck it” kind of person. Unfortunately, though, he knew there came times in life when a fuck it attitude was called for. So in that moment he summoned all of that energy he had and swiped right before he could start over thinking again. He'd swipe and nothing would happen and it would be a little disappointing and then he would move on.

His heart stopped.

_ It’s a match! _

Mike was almost hesitant to believe it, but it was right there in writing:  _ Richie likes you, too! _

Mike nearly dropped his phone. Then he closed out of the app as fast as he could and nearly threw his phone at his nightstand. Then he made sure it was charging and placed it gently back down.

Okay, well, this didn’t mean anything. Mike made sure to remind himself of that. He had made a decent amount of matches, and only about three of them had messaged him so far. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, he shouldn’t bank on this working out. It was getting late, what he should’ve been doing was sleeping. And it took a while, the throbbing between his legs taking its sweet time going away, but eventually he got there.

He dreamt of someone above him. He dreamt of the feeling of bare skin under his fingertips, of someone's tongue gliding over his. Vague and beautiful and heartbreaking to wake up from.

It wasn’t on his mind for his first few moments of wakefulness, the moments where he snoozed his alarm and snuggled further into his pillow and blankets and sheets. But on his alarm’s second go around he forced himself to open his eyes, to shut off the alarm and scroll through his phone to stay awake. And that was when he remembered, and his heart leapt into his throat again.

He hadn’t turned on notifications for Tinder, not wanting anything embarrassing to pop up in front of anyone else, so he had to go to the app, which just made the whole thing more stressful and needlessly dramatic. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was relief or terror when he noticed Richie had messaged him back, but he was definitely feeling some amounts of confusion and amusement when he saw that Richie had gotten back to him at just around 2:30 in the morning on a Tuesday night. Maybe Mike would’ve taken that as a red flag for someone who hadn’t given him an instant boner, but honestly, judging from his bio and outfit choices, Mike felt like it was probably just part of his whole thing. 

The message read:  _ fuck baby i would love to dominate you in street fighter and the bedroom _ .

Mike had not been planning on starting his day with a hard-on so insistent it hurt, but here he was, practically whimpering to himself over someone calling him baby.

Once he fought his way out of the horny brain fog to somewhere akin to conscious thought, the realization that it was now his turn to say something settled over him, and suddenly he was wide awake. Shit, what should he say to that? This wasn’t sexting, right? No, that would be a lot for a first interaction between two strangers. Unless it wasn’t? Fuck, he had no idea how any of this worked. He eventually decided to play it safe and stick to the arcade thing they seemed to have in common.

**Mike:** _ actually I’m more into dungeons and dragons than street fighter _

He read it over about five times before pressing send and bolting to the shower in an attempt to get richie off his mind. However, in the shower he was reminded of the situation between his legs, and suddenly all he could think was Richie saying  _ fuck baby I’d love to dominate you _ over and over again. All he could think was 6’5 and 9 inches. Holy fuck, nine inches? Would Mike even be able to take that much? He teased at his hole as he stroked his cock, his toes curling as he tightened his grip around the head just so. He was spilling over himself in minutes—which, honestly, was helpful in terms of getting to work on time, if a little embarrassing.

If Mike was checking the app every five minutes as he got ready and ate breakfast, well, that was his business. 

Richie ended up getting back to him as he was walking to class.

**Richie:** _ ooh dungeons? sounds kinky (; _

Mike blushed. He couldn’t tell if this was joking banter or if Richie was actually trying to turn him on, but whatever his intention Mike was a little hot under the collar. He was glad he jerked off in the shower; getting a boner in class was not a good look. 

Mike made sure everything for the lesson was in the right place and ready to go first, but he ended up having a few minutes left before class actually started. Time left to stew and fret over what to say. Richie wasn’t actually trying to steer the conversations towards kinks, Mike sternly reminded himself.  _ Witty, be witty _ , he told himself. _ Or at the very least casual. _

**Mike:** _ there’s actually a surprising lack of dungeons _

He sent it. Then he panicked and typed out something else.

**Mike:** _ I like that it’s about working together _

Shit, that was actually stupid. Why would he say that? Fuck, now he had to do damage control. 

**Mike:** _ sorry that was dumb lol _

**Mike:** _ I’d like to see you prove it _

**Mike:** _ the thing about street fighter _

**Mike:** _ although I’ve never played it so I don’t think you’ll have a hard time beating me _

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wanted to beat his head against the wall. There were still a grueling four minutes before class started, but thankfully Richie responded with merciful speed. 

**Richie:** _oh sweetheart you have no idea what you’re doing do you?_

**Richie:** _ it’s cute _

Okay, that was not merciful. Now Mike was really running the risk of getting a boner right before class. 

**Richie:** _ id be honored to teach you the ins and outs of the greatest game ever invented. i know this place thats like a bar and an arcade in one _

**Richie:** _ a barcade! _

**Richie:** _ not to be confused with a barricade _

**Richie:** _ the guys in les mis are super hot tho _

**Richie:** _ still not nearly as cute as you (;  _

**Richie:** _ seriously like damn  _

**Richie:** _ where have you been all my life _

Mike blushed and had to turn to the board to hide his obvious smile from his students. Professional. He was professional. A professional professor who didn’t flirt with hot doms on Tinder on his students' overpriced time. 

Class was thankfully somehow not a mess. He was able to stay on topic, to keep things flowing and get through his PowerPoint just fine. He was even able to answer questions, and to talk to students after class instead of bolting for his phone as soon as 11:45 rolled around. But as soon as the last of his students were gone and it was officially his lunch hour, he was rushing to pack his bag and shoot Richie another message as he made his way to his office. How do you respond to messages like that? Mike had never been good with receiving compliments, and this was just a whole other level. So he simply ignored the compliments.

**Mike:** _ sorry, had a class _

**Mike:** _ a barcade sounds fun _

Wait, was he supposed to be agreeing to a date this early?

**Mike:** _ I haven’t seen Les Mis in forever _

**Mike:** _ I gotta say, you don’t strike me as the musicals type _

Richie took a few minutes to respond, minutes in which Mike checked his emails and got out the sandwich he’d prepared for himself that morning. While the sandwich was nice, the emails were mind numbingly monotonous compared to the excitement of flirting with someone new. So he was thrilled to see, after restraining himself for a respectable seven minutes, that Richie had replied. 

**Richie:** _i don’t seem like i like musicals????_

**Richie:** _ im queer arent i?? _

**Richie:** _ especially les mis like _

**Richie:** _ have you seen eddie redmayne _

**Richie:** _ god damn _

**Mike:** _ I was more into Aaron Tveit’s character personally _

**Richie:** _ of course you were _

**Mike:** _ oh?? _

**Richie:** _you seem like u like someone who knows how to take charge (;_

Mike blushed furiously at that. But he was also grinning to himself like a fool. If he was ever gonna get in on the flirting himself, he figured now was the time.

**Mike:** _ maybe _

**Mike:** _ i also really like guys with curly hair  _

And god, was that true. The curls in Richie’s pictures were beautiful, long, barely tamed ringlets. Mike wanted so badly to run his fingers through them. His heart raced at this bold stroke, but it settled into something much calmer, much warmer, much more comfortable when Richie’s reply came.

**Richie:** _ oh baby this curly haired dom will storm your barricade any day _

Mike liked that as hot as Richie may have been, he still seemed to be— well, dumbass was maybe a strong word, but it was approachable and endearing all the same, and that just drew Mike in even more.

He told Richie this time when he was leaving for class, and he picked the conversation right back up as soon as he got out. It was amazing to the point of near danger, his mind completely on Richie as he wove his way through his commute, something he could do without a thought. And he definitely was guilty of doing it without thought, but he managed to make it home in one piece before rushing to check what Richie had said.

Mike fell asleep that night much later than he normally would, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face, giddily replaying the goodnight text Richie had sent him over and over until sleep gently pulled him down. 

The next day as Mike was going home after office hours, Richie asked him for his number.

That night as Mike ate Starbursts by himself on his couch, Richie sent him the address of the arcade bar, then sent  _ tomorrow at 7? _

Mike couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t if he tried. Eventually his body’s needs won out around three, but he was almost positive there was an actual smile on his face as he passed out, and he didn’t think the beating in his chest had slowed for even a minute.

Fuck, he was excited.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He ultimately arrived ten minutes early and loitered awkwardly outside the door, admiring the designs on the outside of the building. Then he realized that it was probably weird to just wait outside, right? Should he wait inside? He didn’t want that awkward moment of spotting Richie down the street and then they’d wave to each other and awkwardly look at each other and then look away and then look at each other again as he gradually got closer. Yeah, that was definitely a situation Mike wanted to avoid. So he stepped inside hastily and found a seat at the bar. Then he wondered if he should order himself a drink or if that would be rude. Why would it be rude? Okay, he’d wait just in case. Fuck, Google had not helped him. He hated this. He hated not knowing what to do. He hated feeling stupid, he hated it so much, he wanted to go home he wanted to go home he wanted—
> 
> The door opened. He whipped his head toward it, not casually at all, and his breathing stopped. Oh fuck he was real, it was weird. Richie’s eyes found him pretty easily, and Mike watched breathlessly as a grin spread across his lips. Fuck, his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: alcohol, brief mentions of biphobia

It felt like Christmas morning when he woke up. He had a  _ date _ . One he was actually looking forward to, one that actually seemed promising. 

At first he was glad he had nothing scheduled on Fridays, because it allowed him to lie around in bed for a bit. But then he had to get up, and he had to make lesson plans, and work on campaign stuff. He had to do all these things that no one was accountable for but him, solo tasks he had to somehow manage to keep his mind on instead of freaking out over this date. Which is what he was currently doing, because while the excitement was definitely still there, anxiety had joined the chat, tugging at Mike’s sleeve like a screaming child. When he was supposed to be thinking about work, his brain was screaming at him  _ Should we drive? Should we take the train? Is he gonna wanna take you home afterwards? Would we go? _

God, this wasn’t going to go well, was it? But just as Mike was contemplating faking a stomach bug and jumping ship, he got a text from Richie, and he knew that he didn’t wanna miss out on meeting him in person. He was going. He still spent way too long Googling what to do and say and wear on a first date, but still, he was definitely going.

Once he was somewhat satisfied with Monday’s lesson plan, he took himself on a walk around his neighborhood in an attempt to get his antsy energy out. He sat in a park. He looked at some trees. God, how was this calming to people? His brain was still all over the place, still hurling worries and questions and concerns at him from every direction; watching squirrels just did not hold his attention, it didn’t stand a chance. Taking the long way home, while it gave him an energy outlet, did nothing to turn his brain off. He got home and sat down to check up on Sunday night’s campaign, and within five minutes he was pacing around his apartment, his phone to his ear. 

“Hello?”

“Lucas,” Mike sighed.

“What’s up? Everything okay?”

“What? Yeah, everything’s fine, why?”

“I don’t know, you’re just calling me in the middle of the day. I could’ve been at work, or in class. So I figured you might have an emergency.”

“Are you at work? Or in class?”

“Well, no. But I could’ve been.”

Mike shook his head and decided this conversation needed to move along. “Listen. I need advice.”

He could hear the smug smile in his best friend’s voice as he said, “Always happy to share my wisdom with those in need. What do you need?”

Mike screwed his eyes shut and swallowed his pride. “I need fashion help.”

“Hmm, yeah, you definitely do need my help for that.” Mike rolled his eyes. “What’s the occasion? Work meeting? Ooh, are you going on a date?”

“What?” Mike’s voice was high and strained. “No! No, it’s nothing like that.”

“Well I’m gonna need some context. What is it?”

Mike’s heart was racing. “I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

“Why?” Lucas asked, drawing the word out suspiciously. 

“Well, I can tell you, but you can’t tell Max.”

There was a moment of silence. “Alright fine, I won’t ask. But you still gotta give me an idea of what you’re going for.”

“Wow,” Mike scoffed.

“I refuse to let you shame me for not wanting to keep things from my girlfriend! Now seriously, what are we looking for? And what are we working with? Facetime me, I’m gonna need to rifle through your shit.”

Mike switched the call to video as he made his way over to his bedroom and opened his closet, letting Lucas see inside. “I wanna look… I don’t know. Cool?”

“Mike, I don’t know if that’s in my powers, but I’ll do my best.”

Mike flipped him off, which had Lucas’s laughter coming through the tinny speaker of his phone. 

“Okay, okay,” Lucas said, giving it up and moving on, “so you wanna look good, but it’s casual?”

Mike mulled this question over. “Yeah, but like, not super casual. Casual enough? Definitely not formal.”

“Okay, is it gonna be warm?”

“I think it’s supposed to be in the fifties.”

“So long sleeves are in the cards. How do we feel about layering?”

“I don’t know, do you think I should?”

“Hm, yeah, layered looks usually look better.”

They started with shirts. Mike was vaguely aware of the mess he was making, but honestly, at least cleaning it up would keep him occupied. He shrugged shirts on and off, Lucas asking for different combinations. Mike laid his pants out, trying those on and trying different pants with different shirts with different jackets, Lucas heckling him and hyping him up through the whole process. Eventually they found a combination Lucas was proud of, a short sleeve pinstripe button up over a thin, mock neck sweater, both of which were tucked into some brown corduroys. Lucas topped off the outfit with some ankle boots Nancy had sent Mike for his birthday the week before. 

“Damn,” Lucas nodded, appreciating his own work. “I should do this professionally. Fuck this PhD.” 

Mike looked himself over. It was a cool look, he knew that, but he wasn’t exactly a cool person. “You’re sure I don’t look like a weird baseball player?”

“What? No, Mike, oh my god, you look good! And you look like you! It works with your nerdy professor look, but it doesn’t make you look seventy. And you definitely don’t look like a baseball player, trust me.”

Mike sighed. Maybe Lucas was right. He was definitely right. Mike knew that Lucas knew what he was doing, and he knew he wasn’t going to do any better on his own. The more he twirled for himself in the mirror, the more the outfit grew on him. Honestly, the more he looked, the more he began to realize that he even kind of looked like he’d stepped out of a Pinterest board. And a good one at that. 

“You’re sure it looks good?” His voice betrayed more vulnerability than he’d meant it to, but this was Lucas. He could be open with him.

In true best friend fashion, Lucas picked up on this and reflected Mike’s sincerity in his own voice as he said, “Yes, Mike, you look fucking sick.”

Mike grinned. “Alright. Thanks for helping me.” 

“Any time, man.”

“Talk soon?” Mike asked. “About actual stuff, not just clothes.”

“Yeah, for sure! You can fill me in on this event you have that’s definitely not a date,” he winked.

Mike blushed. “It’s not!”

“I’m gonna need you to go on record saying that so Max doesn’t yell at me if it is a date and I didn’t tell her about it.”

Mike grinned and rolled his eyes. “Goodbye,” he said pointedly.

As he hung up, he was pleased to see that Richie had texted him back. Somehow the conversation had made its way to cats, so Mike made his way into his living room and snapped a picture of Charlie, sending it Richie’s way. 

**Richie:** _ damn already sending me pussy pictures? (; _

**Richie:** _ okay but actually fr hes adorable _

**Richie:** _ not as adorable as u _

**Richie:** _ but its definitely close _

A smile pulled at Mike’s lips, his cheeks a pleasant pink. God, he wanted this to work out. He  _ really  _ wanted this. He wanted Richie to mean everything he was saying, he wanted Richie to want him, as badly as he wanted Richie. He wanted this to work out in person as well as it was working out through text. 

It was only four, so he had some time to panic over how much time he had left before he had to leave. The bar was downtown, so he was taking the train; he was never the biggest fan of driving, and trying to get around Los Angeles on a Friday night was not going to ease the stress he was already feeling. It was a little less than an hour away by train, so if he wanted to be there by 7, he should catch the 5:45 to give himself some walking time. But oh god, what if it was delayed? Should he leave earlier? He didn’t want to get there too early, did he? Fuck, should he eat beforehand? Were they eating there? Bars didn’t usually have much food other than pretzels and nachos, but Mike knew a pizza place in the area that he liked. But still, he didn’t want his stomach rumbling; he should be prepared for whatever the night brought, right? He didn’t even want to know what his hair looked like. 

He sat down and resolved to get  _ something _ done before he left. A lesson plan, some extra characters in his campaign, even just reading some fanfiction. Anything to bring his heart rate down. But after failing at all three of those ideas twice over, he was back to pacing and messing with his hair. Then he panic-ate a PopTart and some Cheez-Its before brushing his teeth with a little more aggression than was called for.

Finally, it was late enough to leave, and Mike was heading out the door. 

He gratefully gulped down the fresh evening air. He hadn’t even realized how stuffy the air in his apartment had been. The cool air was a welcome relief on his burning cheeks, soothing him, making him feel a little better. He’d always loved this kind of weather, cool but not cold. Lights glowed from windows, and street lights flickered on, painting the asphalt in gold. The sun was getting low in that beautiful way that bathes the world in warmth, the shadows of leaves dappled on the grass and sidewalks. The whole scene made Mike smile. 

He was able to find a seat where he could keep to himself. He immersed himself in the passing scenery while he could, admiring the neighborhoods that passed him by before he and the train were plunged into the darkness of a tunnel.

The “oh shit” feeling began to settle in then, and it only steadily increased the closer he got to the bar, the closer the time crept toward 7:00. He wished he’d brought a book, but judging by the erratic way he switched between social media apps, he figured it wouldn’t have been that effective in distracting him anyway. He ultimately arrived ten minutes early and loitered awkwardly outside the door, admiring the designs on the outside of the building. Then he realized that it was probably weird to just wait outside, right? Should he wait inside? He didn’t want that awkward moment of spotting Richie down the street and then they’d wave to each other and awkwardly look at each other and then look away and then look at each other again as he gradually got closer. Yeah, that was definitely a situation Mike wanted to avoid. So he stepped inside hastily and found a seat at the bar. Then he wondered if he should order himself a drink or if that would be rude. Why would it be rude? Okay, he’d wait just in case. Fuck, Google had not helped him. He hated this. He hated not knowing what to do. He hated feeling stupid, he hated it so much, he wanted to go home he wanted to go home he wanted—

The door opened. He whipped his head toward it, not casually at all, and his breathing stopped. Oh fuck he was  _ real _ , it was  _ weird _ . Richie’s eyes found him pretty easily, and Mike watched breathlessly as a grin spread across his lips. Fuck, his  _ lips _ . “Mike?” he asked as he made his way over. His gait wasn’t exactly a saunter, but it was close. 

“Yeah, hey,” Mike grinned as he sat down. “Richie?”

“The one and only.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand that made Mike grin. His eyes looked so blue behind his glasses, deep and sparkling, like water that begged you to jump in, egged you on. 

“You’re really fucking tall,” Mike commented with a nervous laugh. What he meant by that was  _ wow, your hands are really big _ , but Richie could decode that on his own.

“Hey, I said as much! I’m not going on the internet telling lies.” He winked, and Mike knew what they were both thinking. What other information he’d included in his profile.

“You’ve got a bold profile,” Mike said, his cheeks burning lightly as he thought about it.

“Hey, caught your attention, didn’t it?”

Mike couldn’t argue with that, and luckily he didn’t need to, as the bartender approached them and asked what they’d like. “I’ll have anything sweet with vodka in it,” Mike shrugged. He hadn’t bothered to read the menu. 

With an amused grin, Richie said, “I’ll have whatever you make for him.”

“One tab or two?” 

While Mike spent a moment panicking, Richie easily answered, “One, on me.”

Mike blushed. “Thanks.” 

“Consider it reparations for how mercilessly I’m gonna kick your ass,” he grinned, nodding toward the games.

Mike shook his head, but he was grinning. He decided he liked Richie’s voice. It was on the deeper side, or at least it seemed to be; he shifted it easily, filled it with inflection and emotion no matter what he said. “You seem pretty sure of that.”

“I spent the best summers of my life in my hometown’s arcade until they kicked me out or I ran through my allowance, whichever came first.”

Mike smiled at that; it was a sweet picture, and he related. “My friends and I would all save up our allowances for a few weeks and then just spend the whole day at the arcade on the weekends.”

“Damn, that sounds cute as hell.”

“The staff got so annoyed with us, it was unreal.” Mike smiled fondly at the memories.

“I hear that. My friends weren’t as into it as I was, so I was there by myself a lot, and I’d get so invested in one game, wouldn’t leave it all day. Nearly got beat up a few times if other guys were trying to play. Then I did get beat up a couple times, but only ‘cause I fucking crushed anyone who tried to beat me.” Richie waggled his eyebrows, a proud smile on his face.

“I guess you were shorter back then?”

Richie laughed. “Oh yeah, I was scrawny as hell. Definitely had to grow into these babies.” He fiddled with his glasses. “And I had these awful braces. You’d think the son of a dentist would’ve had better luck orally, but nah. I’m stuck with this Bucky Beaver mug for the rest of my life.”

“I like your smile,” Mike said, before he could stop himself. But it clearly caught Richie off guard, flustered him, so he was glad he said it. 

The moment of quiet allowed him to realize that there was a bright pink drink in front of him. 

“Oh damn, when did those even get here?” Richie laughed, following Mike’s gaze. Mike shrugged and grinned before taking a sip. Richie mirrored him and made a hilariously exaggerated look of delight. “Oh, fuck, I’ve been missing out!”

“You don’t normally go for sweet stuff?” Mike asked, amused.

“Not since college. Damn. You’ve opened my eyes.”

“They’ll get you trashed if you have enough, too.”

“Damn. Here I’ve been pretending to like beer and whiskey and you’ve had the system cracked all this time. It’s even pretty. Not as pretty as you, but prettier than beer for sure.”

Mike blushed and ducked his head at that, a smile pulling at his lips. Richie’s voice rang in his ears:  _ pretty _ . He didn’t get called pretty, at least not in a way that wasn’t derisive. He liked it. A lot. 

“Alright, I’ve shown you mine,” Richie said. “You got any endearingly embarrassing childhood confessions?”

“Too many,” Mike shook his head. “I was not popular. President of the AV club, dressed like a grandfather. Answered way too eagerly in class.”

“Aw, that is so precious! Were you a teacher’s pet?” Richie was leaning on his hand, his elbow on the bar, his wild curls falling into his face. 

“If I liked the teacher, oh yeah. But…” Mike bit his lip and smirked.

“Oh, you have to tell me what that look means.”

“I once cursed out my history teacher in eighth grade.”

“You fucking rebel!” Richie cheered gleefully. “Oh, I love that. President of the AV club had a trash mouth, huh?”

“Everyone’s fourteen at some point, you know?”

“Oh, I know. I was a fucking menace.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. I think I especially infuriated my teachers ‘cause they just didn’t know what to make of me. Like, I knew all the material, got straight A’s, but I just couldn’t fucking sit still or shut up.” Mike nodded. 

“Class clown?”

“Yeah, but even the other kids only laughed sometimes. Definitely a fucking loser.”

Mike smiled. “I like that. Not that you were bullied, obviously, but I don’t think I’d get along with anyone who was popular in high school.”

“So I take it AV club didn’t give you much street cred?”

“Definitely not,” Mike grinned. “Kids in Indiana didn’t love gay kids either. I don’t think they even knew guys could be bi. Bi was just something girls lied about being for attention,” Mike said with an eyeroll. 

“Oh, man, yeah, small town Maine was the same way. It was like, they hated me for liking guys, but they almost got angrier when I’d make out with my friend Bev. Like they just could not fucking process that that was possible.”

“Gotta love small towns,” Mike said, taking a pointed sip of his drink. 

“Maybe that’s why queer kids are always so into emo music.” Mike snorted at that, narrowly avoiding choking on his drink. “Oh, that hit a spot, didn’t it? What’s your poison, Fall Out Boy? Panic? Don’t tell me you’re into Sleeping With Sirens or Black Veiled Brides, I never went that deep.”

“Mostly Panic and MCR,” Mike said, surprised that his cheeks weren’t burning, surprised that he was admitting things like this on a first date and not immediately wishing he could shove them back down his throat. “Some Paramore, too. But my friends told me not to mention that on my Tinder.”

“Your friends helped you with your profile?” Richie asked, an amused smile on his face.

“Yeah, I’m not good at this sort of stuff, so they took my dating life into their hands.”

“I think you’re doing pretty well so far.” Richie’s grin was genuine and open in a way that made his words light Mike up even more. 

“Yeah?”

“Well I haven’t gone to the bathroom and phoned a friend to fake an emergency yet.” Mike giggled at that. “I might have to if you beat me at Street Fighter, though.”

“You’ve gotta teach me how to play first.”

“Well, then, let’s get to it, shall we?” Mike didn’t think he’d ever heard someone ever use the phrase  _ shall we  _ in real life. It sounded so endearingly goofy coming out of Richie’s mouth, which Mike was beginning to think was in character for him. Richie placed some money on the bar and Mike stood, his skin crackling with something electric as Richie took his hand and led him into the other section of the bar, a section with dark carpets with rainbow patterns and games lining all the walls, some standing back to back in the center of the room. Richie found the Street Fighter one easily. “You wanna jump right in or watch me first?”

“I like watching.” And he did; you kind of had to get used to it when there were four or five or six of you and only one machine open at a time. So he saddled up next to Richie, whose hands found the controls like it was a natural bodily function.

“Oh, Mikey baby, there’s so much I could do with that sentence, but I don’t think I should go there on a first date.”

Mike blushed and rolled his eyes. “You gonna start playing soon?”

“Damn, alright, rushing my art here. Luckily I perform well under pressure.”

“No one performs well under pressure,” Mike grinned. 

“Just you wait and see, babydoll.” Richie’s confident smirk probably shouldn’t have affected Mike as much as it did, but he was only human. And the pet name, wow, Mike liked that too. Thankfully, Richie was already shifting his focus to the game, his fingers settling expertly on the controls and moving them with ease. While Richie's eyes were glued to the screen, Mike couldn’t move his gaze from Richie’s hands; his fingers were so  _ long _ , and just a little thicker than his own. Mike had to fight the fuzziness that threatened to settle over his brain, the thoughts that rained down on him and made him shiver. He couldn’t think like that in public, he didn’t want a boner on the first date. Also, he was supposed to be paying attention to what Richie was telling him. He watched as he obliterated the CPU on the screen, a determined look on his face. His teeth stuck out a bit, digging into his lower lip, and Mike’s heart fluttered. He liked this a lot. He liked that this hot, 6’5 guy who straight up said on his public Tinder that he was a dom had buck teeth and threw himself passionately into a game he spent his childhood mastering. Mike had been so nervous beforehand, and while there was still a fluttering in his stomach, it was much calmer. It was excitement more than anxiety now, knowing that Richie had been a dorky kid, just like Mike.

Mike was pulled from his thoughts as the score totalled on the screen and Richie relaxed his posture, a proud and satisfied smile on his face. “You ready to give it a go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mike said as he stepped up to the machine. Had he been paying attention fully? No, not even close. Was he going to let Richie know that? Also no. 

He gasped softly when he felt Richie come up behind him and wrap his arms loosely around him, just enough to settle his hands over Mike’s. Richie was showing him where to put his hands, what to press and move to attack and defend, but Mike was only half hearing him. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than Richie’s hands on his. Mike hadn’t met too many people in his life whose hands were bigger than his own. It was new, and it was  _ really  _ nice. If it was anyone else he would’ve grumbled that he could do it himself, would’ve stubbornly figured it out. But he was far too happy with the way Richie felt behind him to complain. “You ready to show me how good a student you are, Mr. AV club president?” Richie’s voice was joking, but it was still lower than it had been, and he’d dropped his volume, making his words feel heavier. Mike was just about to shake it off and roll his eyes, sure that Richie hadn’t meant anything by his tone, when Richie placed one hand lightly on Mike’s waist, leaned in closer and teased, “You gonna be bad and curse me out? Or are you gonna be a good little teacher’s pet for me?”

Mike shuddered at that, and he was sure Richie could tell. God, that was so hot, was he discovering a new kink in an arcade right now? Wasn’t Richie joking, too? Should he even have found that hot?

“Okay, okay, I’ll cut it out, but only because I’m gonna pop a boner in public if you keep blushing all speechless like that.”

Fuck, Mike hadn’t even realized he hadn’t responded. To be fair, how was he supposed to respond to that? “I’m not speechless,” he mumbled. But even if he could talk now, his cheeks were even redder at that thought of making Richie hard.

“Oh, you’re not?” Richie said, seemingly delighted. “So I guess you haven’t been staring at my hands all night either, hm?”

Mike looked at Richie over his shoulder and said, “I thought I was supposed to be looking at them. That’s part of the whole you teaching me this game thing, isn’t it?” Mike wasn’t sure if he was flirting or just coming across as an asshole, but Richie was smiling, and that made it easier to breathe.

“Oh, I definitely wasn’t complaining,” Richie grinned.

He had such a nice smile, so wide and soft; Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away. Why would he look at a game when he could look at Richie? Still though, they were in public, and Mike had enough shame to clear his throat and say, “So, uh, Street Fighter?”

“Right, yeah,” Richie nodded, as if Mike had broken him out of a trance. It made him grin as he turned back to the game, actually listening this time as Richie showed him what to do, guiding him through his first round, then letting him do a round by himself. He wasn’t bad; all arcade games required a certain basic muscle memory that Mike would have ingrained in him forever, like riding a bike. But as soon as they started on a versus game, Mike realized that he had absolutely no chance of beating Richie. completely destroyed him three times in a row. Mike wasn’t sure if the cocky way he gloated pissed him off or turned him on. Probably a mix of both leaning heavily toward the latter. 

“Okay, okay, we’re playing a different game now,” Mike said, frustrated, but with a smile. “I know I can beat you at fucking something in here.”

“Your choice, cutie.”

Mike was almost too amped up on competitive energy to blush at the pet name. Almost.

He chose PacMan first, a classic, and had much better luck, beating Richie best two out of three. He had less luck with Donkey Kong, but proved himself again in Dig Dug. He reminded himself to thank Dustin and Max for that one. To be honest, though, even when he lost, he was having fun. Something about the way Richie bumped his shoulder against Mike’s, about how he slung out trash talk about PacMan and Donkey Kong that made Mike laugh so hard he nearly lost his grip on the joystick. “Okay, okay, real personality defining question here, who’s your favorite ghost?”

Mike shrugged. “I don’t know, Inky I guess?”

“Interesting, interesting. Would’ve pegged you as a Pinky guy.” 

“Why?”

“Psychoanalysis doesn’t come free, baby,” Richie winked. “But mostly just because you order bright pink drinks so I figured you liked the color pink.”

“Wow, seems like some pretty empirical scientific deduction.”

“Okay, there are proven case studies! My favorite’s Clyde and I’ve been told that’s fitting.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike grinned. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m a flamingo in a world of pigeons, I swim against the current. And also I like orange.”

Mike laughed. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve met anyone whose favorite color is orange.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, my favorite color is purple, and then yellow, and  _ then  _ orange. Only top three, okay? I have  _ some  _ taste. Speaking of taste, are you hungry?” He barely took a breath between the two thoughts, talking with a speed and energy that made Mike smile.

“I could eat. Did you wanna eat here? I know a pizza place down the block that’s really good.”

“I am very into pizza.”

Richie surprised Mike once again by taking him by the hand and leading him out onto the street. This time he even interlocked their fingers and rubbed his thumb absently over Mike’s hand. It was so much better than a handshake.

“So, you’re from Indiana? How’d you end up in LA?” Richie asked.

Mike shrugged. “It’s where schools were offering me jobs, to be honest, and I had a couple friends living out here already, which was nice, because I was in Boston before I moved here, and I didn’t make any super close friends there. My older sister and her husband live there, but El and Max are more fun than a married couple.” 

“Are El and Max the ones who made your Tinder for you?”

Mike smiled wryly. “Yep.”

“Well, send them my thanks.”

Mike grinned and ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess I owe them one.” Then, quick to change the subject, he asked, “How about you? How’d you go from Maine to LA?” 

“Well, I always wanted to live in LA, always wanted to make it big on the big screen or as a comedian or something. I was always into music. And talking. I went to school out here, but as far as jobs went the best I got was a slot on my college’s radio show and a brief stint in sports broadcasting on a small radio channel that covered minor league stuff. But then I got bored of that, because they wanted me to do baseball, but baseball’s the most boring shit in the world, so I started adlibbing to spice things up, but I don’t think they had the same vision I had. Personally, I thought the transatlantic accent was an excellent addition, but not everyone has taste.” 

Mike laughed as Richie opened the door for him. It was predictably crowded, but they ordered quickly enough and found a table for two tucked away in a corner. Richie paid again, pulling out cash before Mike had a chance. “I could’ve paid for that,” he said.

Richie shrugged. “Yeah, well, I like paying. Call me a gentleman.” He winked at Mike as they sat down. 

“You paying for this on a minor league sports broadcaster salary?”

“Right! Okay, so that was college. Then a year or two later I got a spot on SNL—”

“ _ Saturday Night Live? _ ” Mike interrupted incredulously. “You were on SNL?”

“Well I wasn’t  _ on _ it, but I wrote for it. So I spent a few years doing that, then I got hired to write on a Netflix comedy, so that was when I moved out here, and now I’m a showrunner for this show I’m making, also for Netflix. And both here and in New York I did some professional domming, like nonsexual BDSM basically, but I gave it up last year because I wanted to free up some time to work on a podcast with my friends. And also so I could book in some time for Tinder escapades and ‘putting myself out there’ and all that.” 

Mike’s eyebrows had shot up behind his fringe. “Wow. I have so many questions.”

Richie smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Ask away,” he said, dangling his pizza into his mouth.

“Okay, so showrunning, that sounds kind of amazing. Did you conceive it? What’s it about?”

“ _ Love  _ your word choice there, I bet you kill it at Scrabble,” Richie grinned. Mike must’ve given a face that said  _ you’re not wrong _ , because Richie laughed. “Okay, I’m definitely setting you up on a Scrabble date with my friend Stan. But yeah, it’s mostly my idea, and it’s basically a domestic comedy about a bunch of queer friends who all decide to get into the porn industry together so they can buy a fancy suburban house together and wreak havoc on suburban moms. But like, also just to make money. I honestly have no idea how this idea got through, but we’re working on our third season, so I guess it worked.”

“I think I’ve heard of that.”

“You really don’t need to watch it,” Richie laughed. 

“What if I want to?”

“I guess I can’t stop you if you have a Netflix subscription. Free country, innit?”

Mike gave him an amused but lost look as he slipped into a British accent.

“Can’t go around talking ‘bout a free country without some ironic accent now can I, love? You’ll be thinking I’m a bloody patriot! Can’t trust those damn Yanks with anything!”

Mike was trying and failing to hide his giggles now. 

“But anyway! Yeah, show running, great. Tip top. Get to throw as many bi guy leads in there as I want. God knows barely anyone else in the industry is.” Richie leaned forward on the table, dropping his chin into his hand. “What about you? You’re a professor, right? I bet you’re a super cute one, like Robin Williams in  _ Dead Poets Society _ .”

“Well, I actually teach physics, not poetry, but I do try to slip any anti-establishment rhetoric that I can in there.”

“As you should, comrade!” Mike shook his head in amusement as Richie saluted him. “So what kind of physics do you teach? Do you have a certain subject area?”

“I mean, I teach intro, so I cover a lot. Astrophysics is probably my favorite. And obviously the idea of quantum mechanics and parallel universes is so fucking cool to me, but I won’t bore you with the details.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at that. “That’s the kindest way anyone’s ever called me dumb,” he said with an easy grin that grew as Mike immediately tried to walk it back.

“What? No, I think you could get it, it just bores most people.”

“Well, try me, prof. I wanna know.”

So, tentatively, Mike launched into an explanation of what he taught, and what he was most interested in, all the while watching Richie’s face for the inevitable glazing over of his eyes. But his eyes stayed focused on Mike, he could see that glint of intrigue he saw in about half of his students, most on a good day. Richie was actually listening to him. He even asked a question or two, and threw in a few jokes here and there. Before he knew it, Mike was rambling on about subatomic particles and the multiverse.

“So you believe in aliens?”

“Of course I believe in aliens,” Mike said with a small, incredulous shake of his head. 

“Why haven’t we found any yet?”

Mike beamed as he said, “Oh man, there are so many theories about that.” And Richie was smiling as Mike went onto explain matters of distance and radio waves and differing levels and definitions of intelligent life, as well as theories that other aliens know humans are dumb and destructive and therefore don’t want to interact with us. “Some people think aliens live among us, but I’m not sure how convinced I am of that one.”

“Ooh, very  _ X-Files _ . Was that formative media for you?”

“Maybe,” Mike grinned. 

Richie nodded and smiled. “That tracks. You seem like a fun mix of Scully and Mulder.”

“Thank you?”

“Oh it’s a compliment,” Richie assured him. 

“I was also really into  _ Star Wars _ . That’s probably what most made me wanna study space.”

“Did you have a crush on Han Solo?”

“Who didn’t?” 

“I was more into Luke, to be honest.” After a moment, he added, “And Leia. And I know this is sacrilegious but I was kind of into Anakin in the prequels.”

“Seriously?”

“What can I say? I’m kind of into whiny boys.”

Mike blushed, but he was also too invested in this conversation to follow that particular train of though. “I feel like he takes that a little far though.”

Richie laughed. “Sure, maybe a little. But I like his fluffy hair, too. And he made some points about sand.” Mike rolled his eyes at that, but he couldn’t help letting out a little laugh. 

This was not how dates usually went for Mike. He was laughing way more than he usually did. Richie was way more invested in what he had to say. Mike didn’t feel like he was pulling the weight of the conversation or talking too much, and he didn’t even feel embarrassed as he went on about DnD to Richie, telling him all of the things he had planned for the campaign he was currently crafting. Not only did Richie not give him a weird look about it, he even said he’d be down to come some time and lend his many voices to the characters Mike made up. Basically, talking with Richie was easy, both of them happy to ramble and happy to listen. 

And he wondered if it was different because Richie’s different. Because Mike had always gone for quiet types, for introspective, neat types. Maybe he needed someone brash and loud, who absolutely ate up Mike’s nerdy tastes and revelled in his own.

Someone who could give Mike what he’d been needing, craving. Someone who opened doors for him and liked to pay. Someone who held his hand without a thought, and guided him with a hand on the small of his back as they wove their way out of the pizza place once they realized how late it was getting.

“Did you drive?” Richie asked as they walked back toward the bar, toward where he had apparently parked. The night had gotten colder, and Mike instinctively chased the heat emanating off of Richie’s body. Richie warmed Mike’s hands up between his own.

“Fuck no,” Mike laughed. “I hate LA traffic. My work commute is easy enough, but I never drive downtown if I can help it. I took the train.”

“Want me to walk you to the station?”

The offer was tempting, but they were right at his car. “I think I can make it.” Wait, shit, did Richie want to spend more time with him? Well, he certainly wasn’t asking him to come home with him. Was that a bad sign?

Richie faced Mike and placed his hands lightly on Mike’s waist, immediately silencing his racing brain. “Can I see you again?”

Mike felt like he was glowing, and he had a smile on his face to match. “Yeah,” he said, his voice soft. There were so many things he was feeling, but they just got tangled when he tried to put them into words. He hoped his  _ yeah  _ sufficed. 

“Thank god,” Richie sighed. He came in a little closer, rested his forehead experimentally against Mike’s, grinning when Mike tilted his head back and leaned further into Richie, his hands lightly finding a place on Richie’s chest. Mike’s breath left him as Richie’s nose brushed against Mike’s own. Then Richie was bringing their lips together. And oh  _ wow _ , Mike had not been kissed in a minute, not like this. Not this softly, like there was time for more. Mike wanted to sink into it, but he was pulling away, looking at Richie as his eyes opened.

“Will you text me when you get home safe?” Mike asked.

A smile spread across Richie’s face. “That is adorable. Yes, I will.”

Richie kissed him once, twice more before saying goodnight and climbing into his car.

Mike felt like he was floating as he walked toward the metro station. He barely registered the Friday night bustle as he boarded, finding a seat easily enough. He pulled out his phone and found a text Richie had sent him, something typed out hastily while stopped at a red light about having a good time and Star Wars that made Mike smile to himself. All he could think was,  _ wow, this is nice _ . And he sat with that, let it consume him, wrapped himself up in the feeling as the train carried him forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know anything about LA public transportation or physics please forgive me for any errors lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Monday, Richie asked Mike how he felt about going roller skating that Friday. Mike, possessing not a single athletic or graceful bone in his body, was horrible at roller skating. But he really wanted to see Richie again.
> 
> He reasoned that this would give him an excuse to hold Richie’s hand. He might make a fool of himself, but Richie would help him. Richie was probably good at skating if he was asking Mike to a roller rink, right?
> 
> He was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: alcohol

Mike learned the next day that being a showrunner kept Richie fairly and sometimes unpredictably busy, as Richie texted him about it sporadically.

**Richie:** _ its not as bad since im in charge and try to keep the hours regular and humane but really netflx is in charge so sometimes this happens anyway _

Mike was happy to hear about the positive aspects though, and Richie sent him a selfie of himself on set that revealed absolutely nothing, but which he could apparently be sniped by Netflix for having access to.

Still, despite Richie’s schedule, he sent enough texts to Mike for El and Max to notice Mike smiling at his phone as they sat at a bar in a new club Max had wanted to try. “Who are you texting?” El asked, her voice delighted and teasing as she leaned into Mike. 

“What?” Mike said, quickly putting his phone away. “No one. Dustin. He sent me a funny meme.”

“Oh, he did?” Max joined in. “Can we see?”

“It’s about DnD, you wouldn’t get it.” Max made a face but thankfully dropped it. 

Mike didn’t know why his heart was racing so hard.

“How’s the Tinder thing going?” El asked.

Mike shrugged. “I only went on it a couple times.” That one wasn’t actually a lie; he hadn’t even looked at Tinder since he’d gotten Richie’s number.

“Oh my god,  _ Mike _ ,” El whined. “All of our hard work!”

“I know, I know—”

“She’s just upset because she owes me money now,” Max grinned.

“Wait, what? You bet on me?”

“Okay, you know what?” El cut in, her hand gentle on Mike’s arm. “Let’s go dance. Maybe you’ll find someone here you like.”

Mike highly doubted that. Mike’s dance moves definitely weren’t catching anyone’s eye, and even if they were, the only person whose attention Mike wanted was just getting home after a last minute shoot. He was also sending Mike memes about Luke Skywalker being gay, on which Mike had strong opinions he wanted to share. 

Bodies pressed against him as he and Max sandwiched El; he cringed away from them all. He didn’t want anyone here to touch him, not the way he wanted Richie to touch him. The way he wanted Richie to want to touch him.

But he could still enjoy dancing with his friends. It took a couple more shots, but eventually he was loosening up, swaying with the music. He even laughed when Max smacked his ass instead of scolding her. 

Still, he brushed off anyone who tried to break into their circle, who tried to pull him away from Max and El or came up to him at the bar. He ignored Max and El’s cajoling and their disappointed looks every time he politely shrugged someone off. Maybe they were right, maybe he could’ve benefitted from a casual hookup. Maybe he shouldn’t have been putting all of his eggs in one basket. But it was a really good basket, a hot and funny basket who actually listened when Mike went on about physics and DnD. Richie was everything Mike hadn’t even known he’d been looking for. He was too good to be true.

He nearly told him as much as he stumbled into his apartment later that night.

**Mike:** _Youre’ so hot_

**Mike:** _ Wait shit _

**Mike:** _Thats bot what you asked_

**Mike:** _ Sorry _

**Mike:** _ Gat Star Wars _

**Mike:** _ Gay _

**Mike:** _ You are fr sk hoy tho _

**Mike:** _ Wait shut sorry aging _

Mike took a moment to lightly bang his head against a cabinet in his kitchen before getting a glass of water and bringing it to his bedroom. Fuck, he was drunk. Would he regret that in the morning? Well, he was regretting it right then, so probably.

But then his phone was ringing, Richie’s name lighting up his screen. Mike’s heart caught in his chest; Richie had never called him before. He was excited to hear his voice.

“Hello?” he said, a pretty convincing impression of a sober person if he did say so himself. 

“You drunk texted?” Richie’s voice was low and amused. Mike wanted to melt into it.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I think it’s cute.”

“Seriously?” Mike's voice was both disbelieving and something dreamier. 

“Oh yeah, I like that you’re thinking of me when you’re drunk. In vino veritas, right?”

“I actually took Latin in high school!”

Richie laughed on the other side of the line. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Sorry for calling you hot.”

“You know, didn’t really take offense to it. Might make my ego a little bigger than it needs to be, though. Hey, are you drinking water?”

“Yeah,” Mike said after a moment, “how did you know that? Am I drinking too loud?”

“No, I was just checking in. Sounds like you’re probably gonna have a hangover tomorrow, some water might help. Weed might too, but I don’t know if I trust you with a lighter right now.”

“I actually don’t know how to work a lighter,” Mike admitted. That made Richie laugh again, which made Mike smile as he set the water aside and flopped down on his bed. “I like your laugh. And your voice. And your hair.”

“Oh, this is definitely gonna go to my head.” After a moment of silence, Richie said, “I’m glad you drunk texted, I had a stressful day, so it’s nice to get compliments from a cute guy before heading to bed.”

“Right, bed,” Mike said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

“Nah, you didn’t. I’m a night owl.”

“Okay. You’re sure?”

Richie gave out another laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure. But you sound like you might need to go to sleep.”

Mike’s eyes had in fact closed at some point. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes, please.”

“Aw, so polite.” Richie’s voice was amused, but in doing so it was also teasing in a way that very much had Mike’s attention. But before Mike could take things in that direction Richie was telling him to get some sleep and drink some water, and then Mike was left with the silence of his apartment, which he washed down with a much needed glass of water. 

He was mildly hungover the next morning, but it was manageable, and he was fine by the time he had to leave for DnD. El was faring a little less well, so Mike sent her some pictures of Charlie as he typed up some lesson plans for the coming Wednesday. And of course, throughout the day Richie texted him things that made him smile and completely drop whatever he was doing to respond.

On Monday, Richie asked Mike how he felt about going roller skating that Friday. Mike, possessing not a single athletic or graceful bone in his body, was horrible at roller skating. But he really wanted to see Richie again.

**Mike:** _ Sounds great! _

He reasoned that this would give him an excuse to hold Richie’s hand. He might make a fool of himself, but Richie would help him. Richie was probably good at skating if he was asking Mike to a roller rink, right?

He was not. 

Mike had taken the bus this time, which he despised, but he refused to drive and the metro didn’t go near the address Richie had sent him. He’d had to walk about a block and a half, but it was nice out, and when he got there he found Richie already waiting for him. Mike’s heart fluttered as he spotted him, leaning against the blue, pink, and purple galaxy painted wall. Just another reminder of  _ holy fuck he’s actually real _ . Not only was he real, but he was beaming as soon as he saw Mike. “Hey,” Mike smiled as Richie walked up to him.

“Howdy,” Richie grinned. Richie placed his hands lightly on Mike’s waist, just as he had a week before, and Mike went in easily as Richie leaned down to kiss him. It lingered for just a second, enough to not get them scolded by any parents, and though it was over much too soon for Mike’s liking, he savored every bit of it. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about that all week.”

“So have I.” Mike couldn’t help the smile that was on his face. 

“You ready to rock ‘n’ roll?” Richie asked, suddenly donning an Elvis impression (that Mike was actually somewhat impressed with).

He scrunched his nose up at the pun, but Richie just had that sort of face, that sort of way about him that made you have to smile. “I guess.” 

“Alright, not an Elvis fan, I get it. No more Elvis impressions tonight. He’s left the building.”

“I just think you could pick someone more niche to impersonate,” Mike grinned. He pulled his wallet out as they went up to the skate rentals, but Richie stepped ahead of him.

“Okay, first of all, your constructive criticism is always welcome, so thank you for your patronage, even if it wounds me. Second,  _ I  _ asked  _ you  _ on this date, and therefore I am paying.” 

“You paid last time though,” Mike argued. But his voice didn’t have any of the heat or indignation it usually did; it was softer, and it must’ve told Richie that Mike kind of liked being paid for, because he just kissed his forehead and asked what his shoe size was. 

There was a party or two of children running around, but they seemed to be getting off the rink and heading for some party room in the back for the most part, which was fortunate, because Mike didn’t feel like running over any third graders that night. But there were still some middle schoolers on the rink, and they coasted laps around them as Mike clung to the wall. 

“Are you not good at skating?” Richie asked, clearly amused.

“Does it look like I’m good at skating? I figured you’d be good at it.”

“Oh, I am not,” Richie beamed. “Watch!” He wasn’t clinging to the wall like Mike was, but sure enough as soon as he pushed off his arms were flying out on either side of him. He wasn’t  _ horrible _ , he had the basic foot movements down, and he was much better than Mike, but he wasn’t the picture of grace that some of the other patrons appeared to be. He managed to finish a lap before he came barreling into the wall that Mike was desperately clutching. “See? Functional at best. No brakes on the Tozier Train, just gotta smash into something steadier than you.” He was flashing Mike a megawatt smile that made him giggle, completely endeared. 

“Why would you bring me skating if you’re bad at it?” he asked, still smiling as his face scrunched up in confusion. 

“I wanted an excuse to hold your hand.” Mike blushed at how easily Richie said that. “So what d’ya say? You trust me?” 

“I don’t, but those middle schoolers are laughing at me, so I guess I gotta get off the wall at some point.” 

“That’s close enough to the spirit for me!” Richie beamed as Mike took his hand and slowly, slowly took his hand off the wall. “Okay, so it’s really just one foot in front of the other, and you only wanna be on one at a time.” He showed Mike, his movements slow and shaky. As soon as they started moving, Mike’s arm shot out to the side, his other hand clutching Richie’s in a death grip. 

“Oh fuck,” he said. And then, brilliantly, “Oh shit, there are kids here.”

Richie cackled beside him as Mike did his best not to double over to avoid falling. “Nice save, shit is much better than fuck. You should write a parenting book.”

“Fuck off,” Mike huffed out a shaky laugh as he tried to straighten up. 

“I guess your sister doesn’t have kids then?”

“Well, no, but I have a younger sister, I’m not terrible with kids. This is just terrifying.”

Richie laughed and tugged Mike gently along. “I’ve got you.” Admittedly, Richie saying that did distract Mike long enough for him to get a decent amount of air into his lungs, but the floor was still gliding all too quickly beneath him. “Mikey baby, you gotta relax a little.”

“I don’t really relax.”

That got a laugh out of Richie that made Mike smile. If only he’d been joking. “Oh man, I’m looking forward to proving you wrong about that.”

Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you plan on doing that?”

“I can’t say, there’s children here,” Richie smirked. And now Mike was blushing furiously. “Oh man, I need to stop doing this to myself. Fuck, you are too perfect.”

“What?” Mike said, his blood rushing through his veins. 

“You blush so easy, it’s fucking precious. I haven’t even done anything and you’re the prettiest shade of pink.”

“Maybe I’m just Scottish.” Richie stared at him for a moment before letting out a surprised laugh.

“Oh, he’s Sco’ish is he!” 

“That sounds a little British to me.”

“I would love to hear you do better,” Richie smirked. 

“No,” Mike rolled his eyes. He let out a surprised yelp and clung to Richie as he nearly lost his balance. Richie just barely kept them up as he grabbed at the wall. 

“Aw, come one, show me how the Scotts talk! Bolster my repertoire!”

“You have access to Twitter and the internet.” Mike was fully clinging to Richie’s arm now, using Richie’s height to keep him somewhat steady. It was getting easier, but his heart was still racing.

“Well, yeah, but I’d love to hear from a Scottsman himself.” 

Mike scoffed and shook his head. “I’m only like fifty percent Scottish.”

Richie gasped dramatically and turned to face Mike, rolling backwards. “I feel lied to.”

“Wait, don’t let go!” Mike called, leaning forward and grabbing for Richie. Richie caught him as he faltered, but Mike leaning into him sent them gliding forward with no way of seeing where they were going, and it wasn’t long before they were both toppling over, Mike on top of Richie, who was laughing his ass off. 

“Oh my god, this was a great idea,” he beamed.

“Yeah?” Mike grinned, adrenaline rushing through him as his body realized that he was fine, that the fall hadn’t been fatal. He was blushing at their position, but Richie’s hand had settled on his waist, and he wasn’t pushing Mike away. Mike almost didn’t know how to deal with it, with all the physical affection Richie was giving him. He kind of loved it, and he kind of didn’t want to get up. “You like when your dates fall on you?”

“When they’re as cute as you? Hell yeah.”

Richie’s smile made Mike’s heart flutter. “Okay, people are staring,” Mike said, but he was still smiling as he tried to get up, and just when he thought he found his balance he fell again, laughter bubbling up from his chest even as the embarrassment burned his skin. He eventually had to admit defeat and use the wall to get up, then reached out to Richie and helped him up as well.

“Okay, okay, slow this time, yeah?” Richie said. “I’ll stop telling you how cute you are and you can stop evading my questions about your heritage.” Mike rolled his eyes, but he happily took Richie’s hand. 

They did eventually manage two laps in a row with no wall clinging or falling, but Mike took a wall break after that and laughed to himself as Richie tried to speed skate and fell over at least twice. They skated one last lap together, and while Mike had improved a bit since the beginning of the night, he was more than happy to take the skates off and return them, putting his shoes back on and standing solidly on the floor. Still, it had been worth it for the way Richie had touched him, never letting him go.

“You did good out there, champ!” Richie clapped him on the shoulder.

“Ew,” Mike laughed, scrunching up his nose. “You sound like a tee-ball coach.”

“I am willing to bet money that you never played tee-ball.”

“My parents made me sign up for it when I was six.”

“Really?” Richie’s eyebrows shot up. “And how did that go?”

“I spent most of my time ripping up grass and trying to build sandcastles. I also threw an entire fit every time I had to get ready for a game, so my mom finally let me quit when a ball hit me in the face. It was just a nosebleed, but I think she was happy to not have to fight me on getting into my uniform every Saturday.”

“Oh my god, sandcastles? That is precious.” They found a table for two and sat down. 

“Were you into sports as a kid?”

“With this eyesight? Fuck no,” Richie laughed. “But I never wanted to, anyway. I would, however,  _ love  _ to see a picture of you in your uniform.” Mike must’ve looked down too abruptly, because Richie suddenly crowed, “Oh my god, you have pictures, don’t you? Show me, show me, show me.” He dragged his chair over next to Mike’s, crowding into his space just enough to have Mike wanting to lean into it, wanting more. Mike gathered his thoughts enough to pull out his phone and pull up Instagram, even as his mind spun from the heavy, heavenly smell of Richie’s cologne. Lucas was the one who had posted it, so he pulled up his profile and scrolled a bit until he found it, a throwback photo of Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Will in tee ball uniforms, their hats hilariously big on their heads. Dustin was beaming, Will was smiling shyly, Lucas was trying to look serious and athletic, and Mike was not even trying to hide how much he did not want to be there. “Oh my god, you really did not like that sport, huh?” Richie laughed. 

“It was so boring!” Mike defended himself. “And hot! And there were no snacks! At least when my mom made me play soccer there were always orange slices.” 

“Orange slices are a big motivator,” Richie nodded sagely, not bothering to suppress the teasing grin on his face. “God, you look  _ pissed _ , they gave you a bat when you were making that face?”

Mike let a giggle slip at that. “Okay, okay, I wanna see your embarrassing childhood pictures now,” he insisted. 

“My at is trashdick, go wild.”

“Wow, cute,” Mike scoffed. “How’d you lock down a username like that?”

“You know, I feel like I’m sensing some sarcasm,” Richie grinned, nudging Mike lightly with his shoulder. “What’s your at? Something beautiful and poetic?”

“It’s mikewheeler. One word, no underscores.”

“I think mine’s more fun. And elusive.” 

Mike laughed and shook his head. “I will give you that.”

As Mike scrolled through Richie’s profile, Richie walked him through his friends. Mike got a bit lost, as there were six prominent people who kept coming up, but he got the gist. All very close, friends since childhood. It showed in the pictures that they took together. 

Mike showed Richie El, Max, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Nancy, and Holly primarily. He had a few pictures here and there of Robin, Steve, and Jonathan, but he had to look for them. The farther back he got, the more pictures of El there were; pictures of El hanging off of him, pictures of him kissing her cheek, lots of pictures of just El. “Damn, you said this is your best friend, right?” Richie asked. Mike nodded. “You’re best friends with your ex?”

Mike shrugged. “Yeah.” He knew other people found it weird, but it never felt weird to him. They’d been in Boston together, but they’d broken up when she moved to LA to further her filmmaking career. Choosing their careers over their relationship and realizing that their romantic relationship couldn’t weather the distance kind of cemented for them that they should just be friends. They’d tried rekindling it when Mike moved to California, but they were both so different by then, and it felt right to stay just friends. The break up had been nearly unbearable at first, but Mike never regretted any of it, and he loved where they were now.

“Damn, nice. Power to ya. Hey, do you wanna split some mozzarella sticks? Maybe some milkshakes?” Before Mike could answer, Richie’s eyes widened comically. “Oh man, there’s this diner a few blocks away, and their milkshakes are insane. Do you wanna go? I can drive.”

“Sure,” Mike smiled, caught off guard by the rapid change in subject, but still happy to dive into whatever craving whirlwind Richie was caught up in. He took Richie’s hand and let him lead him out, leaving the smell of cleaning supplies and roller rink pizza behind them.

Mike’s heart thrummed in excitement as Richie led him towards his car. He really liked the idea of being somewhere so private, with Richie, so close and personal.

“You wanna take a picture of me with the license plate?” Richie asked. When Mike gave him a confused,  _ why the hell would I do that  _ look, Richie laughed and explained, “So you can send it to a friend so I don’t kidnap you.”

Oh. Shit, yeah, Mike probably should’ve thought of that on his own.

Richie crouched beside his license plate and made peace signs with his hands as Mike snapped his picture, then pestered him about if he looked good or not.

Mike was giggling as he climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in. It was a nice car, with an almost new smell to it, and one of those screens where you can connect to your phone. It even had seat warmers. “Your car’s nice.” 

“Why thank you, kind sir! Just promise me you won’t look in the back.”

Mike quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is there a body back there?”

“Just lots of In-N-Out wrappers, but honestly probably enough to make a sculpture of a small child.”

“Ew,” Mike said, but he was laughing.

While Richie fiddled with the music and the navigation, Mike debated who to send the picture to. He didn’t want to make Lucas lie to Max, and he didn’t want Max and El to pester him about meeting Richie, not just yet, not when things were still this new. Dustin couldn’t keep a secret for shit. Nancy would probably lecture him about getting in someone’s car on a second date. Will was the obvious contender; no one could keep a secret like Will, and honestly Will wasn’t really interested enough in dating gossip to barrage Mike with questions.

**Mike:** _ Hey Will! I’m getting in this guy’s car, his name is Richie Tozier and I promise he’s not a murderer! Please don’t tell anyone about this unless you don’t hear from me by tomorrow morning. Thanks, love you! _

Some upbeat indie song was playing through the speaker as Richie pulled onto the road. Mike watched him, his face mostly in darkness but occasionally lit up by passing streetlights. He watched, so hopelessly endeared as Richie absently drummed along to the song on the steering wheel. He was almost startled when he got a text back from Will.

**Will:** _ youre so shady but ok. pls don’t die, that man is not hot enough to get murdered for. love you too <3 _

Mike snorted at the message and put his phone away. 

“Does your friend like my picture?” Richie asked, his hand under his chin.

“No,” Mike grinned.

“Do  _ you _ like it?”

Mike shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Are you gonna delete it?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Hell no, I wanna be in your phone like a sailor in a locket.” Richie had a light, joking tone in his voice, but his words still made Mike blush. “Except, y’know, I wanna see you sooner than two years from now.” Mike snorted at that.

“I’ll check my schedule.” 

They rolled up to a classic looking diner, all silver siding and pink and blue neon lights. This time, instead of holding his hand, Richie led Mike in with a hand on the small of his back, like he’d done last week when they’d walked to his car. It made Mike’s skin tingle in a way that he decidedly really liked. He liked being shown where to go, he liked how gentle and comforting Richie’s touch was.

They found a table easily enough, one by the window. Through the glass they could see cars speeding by, their streaks of light illuminating the night. Mike missed the feeling of Richie’s hand on him as soon as it was gone. He flipped through the menu, asking Richie what was good, and ultimately ended up ordering french toast, because hey, they were at a diner, that’s what you do, right? And of course they each got a milkshake, and mozzarella sticks to share. What kind of knocked Mike off his feet, however, was that Richie ordered lasagna. 

“Who the fuck orders lasagna at a diner?” Mike laughed.

“Enough people to keep it on the menu!”

Mike supposed that was fair. They ordered and waited, and the whole time Richie was teasing him, smiling at him, trying to get him to laugh. And Mike felt those giddy butterflies, he felt that aching need to chase this, to have more and more and more of this. He wanted to feel Richie’s hands on him again, guiding him, running his thumb over his skin. He wanted to feel Richie’s lips again. It was almost infuriating to have to sit there and watch him talk and not be able to get any closer. He wanted to climb over the table and crawl into Richie’s lap and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe. But he had a sneaking suspicion that that would be frowned upon. Still, the scene played insistently in his mind, and he wondered if Richie was feeling even half the want that Mike was.

Mike realized quickly that he’d ordered far too much, so he tried switching between the three, trying to strike the right balance. 

“I’ll give you a dollar if you dip a mozzarella stick in your syrup.”

Mike looked him dead in the eye, unblinking, as he scooped an ungodly amount of syrup onto one of the mozzarella sticks and brought it to his mouth, taking a brave bite. He grinned at Richie’s delight, so, so incredibly happy to have made him smile like that. “It’s honestly not that bad,” he said once he’d swallowed. “I don’t think I’m gonna do it again, but still.” He laughed as Richie bowed his head and slid a dollar across the table. Mike shoved it back at him.

Just then he got a text from Will.

**Will:** _ michael why is this man’s net worth in the millions _

Sure, enough, there was a screenshot of a Google search of Richie Tozier, his net worth reading 2.5 million. Mike nearly choked on his milkshake and looked at Richie incredulously. “You’re a millionaire?” His voice was higher than he meant, and if he was capable of thinking things through before saying them he probably wouldn’t have phrased it like that, but Richie was giving him an easy smile. He didn’t look annoyed; if anything, there was a faint blush painting his cheeks where the frames of his glasses rested.

“Your friend Googled me?” Mike nodded. “Are you telling me you haven’t Googled me yet?”

“What? Why would I Google you? Wait, have you Googled me?”

“Isn’t that a standard safety procedure with dating these days? Make sure the person’s not lying about who they are?” Mike must’ve looked alarmed, because Richie stifled a laugh and threw his hands up. “It was just surface level! Just needed a faculty picture to make sure you weren’t a serial killer! I’m sorry some of us have self preservation instincts sometimes.”

Okay. Maybe he had a point.

“You know this doesn’t mean you have to pay for everything, right?” Mike said. “Like, I can pay for things sometimes.”

Richie surprised him by reaching out and placing his hand lightly over Mike’s, tracing the tip of his finger over the inside of Mike’s wrist in a way that made him shiver. “I know. But I like paying for you.” His voice had dropped to a tone Mike hadn’t heard from him yet. It was still kind, but there was this power behind it. It made Mike want to melt. 

“Are you sure?” he managed to say. He pretended like his voice didn’t give away how clearly affected he was.

With a smile, Richie gave him an emphatic, “Trust me, I really like it.” 

So Richie paid, again, and while there was a part of Mike that felt a bit guilty, like he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to, the fact that Richie was apparently a millionaire made him feel a little less bad about it. There was also another feeling, some sort of fluttering warmth when he thought about Richie paying for him, but Mike didn’t want to dwell too long on that feeling. Not just then, anyway.

They stayed in the diner for far longer than they needed to, sipping on long gone milkshakes while trading stories and jokes. It made Mike realize just how long it had been since he’d really gotten to know someone new. It was nice to have someone to share things with for the first time. And Richie never seemed to run out of things to say; too often when Mike met someone new the conversation fell flat, and Mike left feeling like he’d talked way too much, or not enough. But Richie hopped from topic to topic like he had an endless Spotify queue going on in his brain, and he never seemed annoyed or bored whenever Mike slipped into a rant that maybe lasted a little long. 

The night quieted down once they finally decided to give up their table to some other patrons. The air outside had cooled down considerably, so the warmth of Richie’s car was very welcome as Mike slid into the passenger seat. He gave Richie the address of his apartment building, his heart sinking as he did. It was getting late, Mike knew that. But he really didn’t want to go home. 

“Can I take the long way to drive you home?” Richie asked, and it was just too perfect.

“Yeah,” Mike said, his voice soft as a smile broke across his face. Mike would’ve gone anywhere with him just then. Well, okay, maybe not  _ anywhere _ , but the radio was turned down and the moon was out and it was just the two of them, and the memory of Richie’s lips on his own lingered in Mike’s mind, and he would’ve made out with Richie in his car in a dark parking lot like a teenager if he’d asked him to.

Unfortunately, this was a major US city and not a suburban town, so privacy and empty parking lots were few and far between. Also, they were both over six feet tall, which Mike had a feeling would cause some problems with car sex.

And oh fuck, sex. God, Mike wanted to have sex with Richie. Was he supposed to want that so early on? The fact that Richie hadn’t invited him over suggested that maybe he shouldn’t. Was Mike supposed to invite Richie in? Would that be weird? Fuck, Mike really didn’t want to fuck this up. He had no idea what he was doing. 

But then Richie took Mike’s hand in his own, and immediately it was easier for Mike to breathe. Richie wanted to take the long way. Richie wanted to spend more time with Mike, too. Richie was holding his hand and humming along to some song, and Mike felt like there were cartoon hearts circling around his head. 

Mike didn’t really bother to wonder where they were headed, but soon the beach was in view, bathed in silver moonlight as the waves crashed distantly. “Thought I’d take the scenic route,” Richie explained. “Though, any route with you is scenic.”

“That’s cheesy.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“You cannot possibly tell that in this light.”

“Okay, well I can still hear you smiling.”

“How can you hear a smile?” But even as he said it, he knew his glee was shining through his words, and he was happy about it. 

They kept up the banter as they rolled along, the ocean crashing calmly to Mike’s right. It should’ve been a scene of absolute serenity, but there was an insistent thrumming under Mike’s skin. There was so much he wanted. Richie’s hand in his was like a glimmer of what else could be, a tease of all the other places he wanted to touch Richie, where he wanted to feel Richie’s hands. As Richie laughed and joked and winked through the ride, Mike wondered if he was feeling the same tension that was pulling desperately at Mike’s chest. The way he let his gaze, magnified slightly by his lenses, roam over Mike’s chest and legs from time to time, quick but there, had Mike thinking maybe he did.

However, if he was feeling it, he was behaving himself. Mike could feel his heart breaking a little when they rolled up to his building. The tension beat hard in his chest as he unbuckled and turned to face Richie. He didn’t want to get out of the car, didn’t want to go up to that apartment where he'd be by himself again. He wanted to know what his apartment would look like with Richie in it. He wanted to know what Richie would do to him if he invited him upstairs. 

“Thanks for driving me home,” Mike said, breaking the thick silence that had fallen between them.

“Of course,” Richie smiled. “You look good in my passenger seat.”

Mike shivered at that. God, Richie knew how to use his voice. Mike had never met anyone who could change their tone like that, who could have him blushing this easily. He never wanted it to stop; he would happily drown in the way that voice made him feel. Richie touched the inside of his wrist again, let his eyes fall to Mike’s lips. Mike couldn’t take the wanting anymore. He leaned forward and brought his lips to Richie’s, unable to hide how bad he needed it. Richie kissed him back just as hungrily, his hands cupping Mike’s face. This kiss was far less chaste than the others had been. Their lips locked together, the movements smooth and open, searching, desperate, yet taking their time. Mike pressed his hand against Richie’s chest to steady himself as he leaned in further, clutching slightly at his shirt. He was vaguely aware of Richie’s glasses being pushed askew, but Richie didn’t seem to mind. Mike moaned when he felt Richie slide his tongue over his own. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Richie panted. Resting his forehead against Mike’s, he met his eye and said, “I need to see you again.”

“You will,” Mike rushed to say, like it was urgent. His hand was still on Richie’s chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly, his fingertips tracing Richie’s collarbone. 

“Soon?”

“As soon as we can.”

Richie smiled, and it made Mike’s heart soar. “Then I’ll see you as soon as we can.”

Mike’s heart dropped a bit; guess this was goodnight then. “Will you text me when you get home?”

Richie nuzzled his nose against Mike’s and kissed him softly. “Of course.” 

It took a few more kisses, but eventually Mike managed to get out of the car and say goodbye, his lips still tingling. He probably looked ridiculous, smiling to himself all the way up to his apartment, but he didn’t care. He felt like he was floating. And if he was walking a little weird, well, only he had to know why. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE SMUT IS COMING I PROMISE lmao
> 
> also!! updates are officially going to be on fridays!!
> 
> thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kinda turns me on to be honest.” Mike’s breath caught at that, especially with the way Richie’s eyes were roaming over his body. Mike was practically lying down on his back now, and Richie was propped up on his elbow looking down at Mike. His curls hung in his face on one side, and he had them tucked behind his ear on the other. He looked gorgeous, and it only got worse when he laughed and ran his free hand over Mike’s thigh. “Does it turn you on, too, baby?” Richie’s voice was deep and low now, teasing, and Mike just barely managed to suppress a whimper as Richie leaned in closer to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (:
> 
> cw: mention of alcohol, food

The next morning Mike woke up on a Saturday to an alarm instead of Charlie stepping on his face, which meant it was one of those Saturdays when he and El got brunch together.

He also woke up to a text from Will, asking if he was alive and demanding a picture of Charlie with that day's newspaper as proof. Mike settled on a video of Charlie while he said the date out loud and gave Will a thumbs up, assuring him he was alive and well before hopping in the shower. 

Mike loved brunches with El, especially because they only happened about once every month or two, given that neither of them were too keen on making plans before noon on weekends. But they were a great time to catch up, and getting up on a Saturday every now and then made Mike feel productive when he was really just going to get mimosas and gossip with his best friend. It was great.

This time, however, had his stomach flipping a bit. He was feeling so much, he had so much to share, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it just yet. The thought of telling anyone about it made his heart start racing, in the bad way. So he decided he would give it some time.

Luckily, El had plenty to share with him. Her film had been accepted to one of the local film festivals, so she was putting the finishing touches on it and planning out press releases, as well as applying to bigger festivals. Mike loved hearing her talk about it; El was a pretty quiet person, even around her closest friends, so he loved hearing her open up and get excited about her work. He knew how hard she’d been working on this film, and for how long, and he was so proud of how far she’d come with it. He’d seen bits and pieces, and he knew the overall concept, but El refused to let him or Max see it until the premiere in a few weeks. 

“What about you?” she asked, catching her breath and coming back down to earth. “Any fun work or DnD news?”

Mike shrugged. “Not really. We’re almost done with this campaign, we should finish it next week or the week after, so I’m brainstorming ideas for the next one. Thinking of fucking around with parallel universes, I think the others would have a lot of fun with that, but all my ideas are a little too close to  _ Legend of Korra _ , so I’m working on that.” 

“I have faith in you,” El smiled, giving Mike’s hand a little squeeze. “How’s the Tinder going?”

Mike froze. Then he shrugged again. “I don’t know if it’s my thing.” He watched her reaction and found that she was listening intently, sympathetically. “The messages are just so awkward.” Fuck, this did not feel good. He really, really did not want to talk about this.

Fortunately for him, El was an angel who knew him well and dropped it easily. “Okay, okay, I get that.”

“How’s  _ your  _ dating life?” he shot back, a smile finding its way onto his face.

She gave him an offended look. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. Ouch, but fair.” When Mike just gave her a look, she burst into giggles. “I’m busy! I don’t have time to date!”

“I’m busy, too!” he shot back. “Maybe  _ you  _ need a Tinder.” 

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” she laughed, throwing a blueberry at him. “No more Tinder talk today.”

Mike could get on board with that. 

His Sunday afternoon was a productive one; he managed to whiz through finalizing his current campaign, and his lesson plans through Wednesday were complete and squared away, which left him with free time to plan out the next campaign and text Richie while he did so. Mike normally didn’t love texting, but he was always happy to get a message from Richie. It was reassuring knowing that Richie took time out of his work day to send Mike a meme, or to share a random thought that had been on his mind. He had a penchant for sending long, elaborate strings of emojis that Mike had fun decoding. More than once he asked for pictures of Charlie, which Mike happily supplied. He even reluctantly sent a very awkward selfie with his thumb up while Charlie yelled for cheese in the background, but Richie would not stop telling him how cute he looked, so he figured the awkward feeling had been worth it. 

Richie surprised Mike that Tuesday with a spontaneous, desperate plea for ice cream. 

**Richie:** _ r you busy tonight?? want ice cream?? work is killing me and im in desperate need of you and sugar _

And how could Mike say no? The idea of Richie needing to see Mike, of wanting to see him when he was stressed made Mike glow. He wasn’t happy that work was stressing him out, but he  _ was  _ looking forward to seeing him again, and on a week day.

He picked Mike up right from his apartment, and Mike was thrilled not to have to take public transportation. Richie kissed him deeply when he got in the car, making both of them smile. “I’ve needed that so bad today,” Richie sighed. “How are you?” He was stroking Mike’s hair, casually, absently, and it almost turned Mike’s brain to mush, but he managed to form a sentence anyway.

“I’m alright. No one caught on fire in lab today, so that’s always a win.”

“Hey, alright! Cheers, mate!” Mike giggled at the sudden British accent and indulged Richie in the high five he prompted.

“What about you?” Mike asked. “Long day?”

Richie sighed and took Mike’s hand in his, pulling onto the street. “Ice cream first. Gotta have priorities.”

If Mike thought his preference for cake batter was childish, Richie ordering cotton candy ice cream blew him out of the water. “That has to be the fucking sweetest thing in the world,” Mike laughed.

“Actually that’s you,” Richie said, ruffling Mike’s hair.

Mike had to admit, that one was on him. “That was low hanging fruit,” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s a set up to a very different pick up line,” Richie grinned. Mike scrunched up his face enough to convey that he was not interested in hearing it, which made Richie laugh. God, Mike loved making Richie laugh. 

They walked down the pier until they found a bench they could share, overlooking the ocean. The sun had just set, leaving the world in a pleasant pink glow as the streetlights came on. “So what happened with work?” Mike asked, angling his body to face Richie’s. Richie sighed and slumped back. 

“They’re just making the show way too generic. Like, they just wanna sell it out, y’know? There was one straight white cis guy in the show, that was the joke, that was turning things on their heads, and now they wanna expand his plotline and prioritize it over other characters, and add even more straight white cis characters, which is infuriating! The show is supposed to criticize and question the demonization of sex work and advocate for humane, inclusive, safe, sane, and consensual porn production. No one wants to watch a show about a straight white cis guy making porn! Well, I’m sure straight white cis guys do, but I’m not exactly trying to target Seth Rogen’s fanbase. I’m trying to have fun and be raunchy, sure, but I’m also trying to make a point, you know? Comedy is such a good medium for subliminal messages. And honestly overt ones, too. But they just wanna make jokes about tits like it’s fucking  _ American Pie  _ or some shit. It’s supposed to be a critique of capitalist sexuality that looks at who is allowed to enjoy sex and who porn is made for and by, and it’s like my bosses don’t even realize how ironic it is that they’re trying to appeal to the one demographic that everything is already made for just to make more money. And it’s not that I don’t want all types of people watching the show, I do, but I want their viewership with the understanding that this isn’t about them, because everything is already about them. And like, I’m lucky to even have a third season, though honestly I’m not sure the plot was meant to go on this long. So I’ve also been kind of freaking out about that, because they want more from the story than the story has, so they’re making all these ridiculous proposals that don’t even make sense.”

Mike let Richie vent a bit more, leaning into him and giving understanding hums. He gave some suggestions, not sure if any of them were helpful, but they got Richie talking, and he seemed less frustrated by the time they’d finished their ice cream and headed back for his car.

“I’m sorry, I totally just talked about my shit this whole time,” he apologized as they started back toward Mike’s apartment.

“I don’t mind. I like hearing about your show. I like hearing you talk.” Richie let out a small, humorless laugh. “What?”

“Nothing, it just always surprises me when someone says that. Most times people have to beg me to shut up.”

“I’ve definitely been there.”

“Well,” Richie said, his tone brighter, “I’m glad you like hearing this voice because I seriously don’t shut up. Like for real, there is no off switch.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. I like it.”

Richie smiled softly at Mike then, something glimmering behind his eyes, a puzzle Mike couldn’t crack in the short time he had before Richie turned his gaze back to the road. They drove like that in silence, Mike’s hand in Richie’s, and Richie drew patterns over Mike’s skin that had him glowing. 

Richie was momentarily serious as he dropped Mike off, thanking him for being a sounding board and helping him sort his ideas out. 

“I hope it helped.”

“Nothing a little ice cream and a cute boy can’t fix,” Richie winked. “I think it’ll really help my thought process if you kiss me, though.”

Mike didn’t even bother to roll his eyes before obliging him.

On Friday afternoon Richie asked Mike what his favorite candy was. They had plans, but Mike wasn’t allowed to know what they were. Still, that wouldn’t keep him from guessing. 

**Mike:** _ Depends. When I’m working I like mini Reese’s cups, but Twizzlers are definitely my go-to movie snack _

Richie just sent him a shushing emoji, followed by a winking emoji, eyes, question marks, and other things that Mike had to assume were the completely unrelated products of Richie fucking around and scrolling through the lists of emojis, picking whichever random ones caught his eye. 

Mike really liked when Richie picked him up. He liked that Richie drove, that he came to get him. It felt like a high school fantasy, like a cheesy 2000’s movie in the best way. He loved that he didn’t have to worry about driving, and even though Richie had a habit of blasting music and drumming on his steering wheel, Mike trusted his driving. He seemed to know LA like the back of his hand. More impressive was his ability to weave through Los Angeles traffic, merging with ease. Mike could never merge without having at least three minor heart attacks first. 

This time when Mike got in the car though, he was looking for clues. And sure enough, the back seats were down, replaced by a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows, and there was a bag of Twizzlers tossed in the middle. “It  _ is _ a movie!” Mike cheered triumphantly.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Richie said, laughing. “You haven’t even let me kiss you hello yet!” Happily, Mike obliged his request, both of them smiling into it as their lips moved softly together. “And you don’t know it’s for a movie,” Richie pointed out as Mike put on his seatbelt. “Maybe I’m just trying to fuck you.”

Mike blushed furiously. “With Twizzlers?”

“Just tryna romance you first.” Richie slid his hand over Mike’s thigh, making him gasp.

“It’s working,” he said before he could think better of it. 

The mood shifted very suddenly and definitively then. “Baby, don’t tempt me to turn right back around and take you to my place,” Richie said in a low voice. Mike could hardly breathe.

“So what are we seeing?” His voice was noticeably strained, but he was just proud of himself for not pouncing on Richie without a thought while they were still parked on a fully public street. 

Richie shrugged as he pulled away from the curb. “Something that’s easy to tune out.”

Mike couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He hoped he wasn’t. The wink he gave him did nothing to help clarify.

It got a little easier to breathe once Richie started some banter, asking Mike about his day and telling him how he was working out his issues with his bosses, finding compromises that worked for everyone without sacrificing the values of the show. Mike told Richie about his campaign, and Richie was laughing so hard Mike was worried about his ability to watch the road when Mike told him about one of the characters in the campaign, a Dragonborn the player had named Draken Josh. 

“So we’re going to a drive-in?” Mike asked with a smile.

Richie looked worried for a second. “Yeah, is that cool?”

“Of course, I love drive-ins. Why would it not be cool?”

Richie let out an awkward laugh. “Oh man, not to bring up my ex on a date, but she was a climate activist, refused to let the car idle for two hours.”

Mike turned this information over in his mind. Damn, a climate activist. He wondered how Richie met her, but he figured that was a question for another day. Instead, he said, “I mean, she’s kind of right. But why not just turn the gas off and play the radio with the battery going?”

“Ah, because that’ll kill your battery!” Richie said, like Mike had asked him a quiz question he’d specifically studied. “And then the people running the place have to jump your car. Super embarrassing, apparently, but my friend Eddie never let any of us make that mistake, so I wouldn’t know from experience.” Richie shot him a cocky smile that made him giggle.

“So what I’m hearing is it definitely is bad for the environment.”

“Well, yeah, but you’ll handle that,” Richie said with a wave of his hand. When Mike gave him a confused look, he went on, “Isn’t that what you do with a physics degree? Figure out how we’re all gonna live on Mars when this planet kicks the can?”

“I think it’s bucket,” Mike laughed, “and no, that’s not exactly what we do. I think that’s what Elon Musk thinks he’s doing.”

“Well, then call me Grimes.”

Mike made a face. “No.”

Richie laughed, and it was such an amazing, contagious sound.

The sun had just sunk beneath the horizon when they pulled up to the drive-in. Richie easily maneuvered the car to face away from the screen so that they could watch from the trunk, his arm around Mike’s headrest while he did. Mike liked watching him, liked how exposed his neck was like this, how prominent the sharp edge of his jaw was. He loved Richie’s profile, too, loved the slope of his nose where his glasses sat and the pout of his lips. The setting sun cast golden shadows over his face, making his features all the more pronounced. It was beautiful. Mike drank all of it in while he could. Honestly, though, there was just as much beauty to enjoy when Richie parked, turned to him with a smile, and said, “You ready to be romanced?”

“I guess we’ll see,” he smirked. He waited for Richie while he fiddled with the radio, setting it to the right channel before leading Mike with sweeping gestures to the elaborately decorated trunk. 

Mike had to admire his workmanship, and he said as much before climbing into the trunk. He blushed when he heard Richie whistle behind him.

“I think your trunk’s much more impressive than mine, damn.”

Mike flipped him off as he got settled. Richie laughed and jumped in after him. Mike’s heart started racing when Richie closed the trunk. This was nearly a bed. Sure, they were technically in public, but it was getting dark, and being able to lounge with Richie was new. With the trunk closed it felt like they were alone, and Mike felt like a high schooler waiting anxiously for his first kiss as Richie settled beside him and wrapped Mike in his arms. 

And  _ wow _ . Mike couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him like this. His breath was coming short and shallow, but he liked it. Richie’s embrace was so warm, so natural, and Mike happily leaned into it, chasing it. There was Richie’s body, all laid out, and Mike was the only one with him. There was no one watching, no table or gear shift separating them. Mike ran his hand over Richie’s chest, felt how warm his skin was even through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. Their legs brushed hesitantly together, Mike’s corduroys against Richie’s jeans. The intimacy of it all had Mike feeling like a live wire. When he looked up at Richie, he found him smiling down at him. “Do you like it?” he asked. And while his voice was still somewhat light, somewhat playful, there was something soft there as well, something so genuine.

Mike nodded, a small smile on his lips as he brought them to Richie’s.

“Do you need anything? Popcorn, Twizzlers?”

Mike grinned fondly at Richie doting over him like a party host. “I like Twizzlers.”

They chatted a bit before the movie started, trying to use the Twizzlers like swords and laughing when it failed miserably. Richie made a dick joke that Mike really should’ve seen coming, but it admittedly did still make him smile. When the movie started—some random drama that promised a car chase—they learned that they were both the type to talk through movies, making so much commentary that they eventually missed out on a lot of the plot. Normally Mike liked to be able to keep track of what was happening even as he talked over it, but he wasn’t particularly interested in paying attention to this film. 

The conversation stopped being about the movie pretty quickly, and eventually they got on the topic of paying for dates. “So you really actually like paying?” Mike asked. “Like, you don’t want me to pay?”

“Cross my heart,” Richie grinned.

“Why?”

“Kinda turns me on to be honest.” Mike’s breath caught at that, especially with the way Richie’s eyes were roaming over his body. Mike was practically lying down on his back now, and Richie was propped up on his elbow looking down at Mike. His curls hung in his face on one side, and he had them tucked behind his ear on the other. He looked gorgeous, and it only got worse when he laughed and ran his free hand over Mike’s thigh. “Does it turn you on, too, baby?” Richie’s voice was deep and low now, teasing, and Mike just barely managed to suppress a whimper as Richie leaned in closer to him. Not trusting his voice, he nodded, his nose brushing against Richie’s. Richie cursed under his breath before pressing his lips desperately against Mike’s. This time Mike couldn’t help the sound he made, a small moan in the back of his throat as their lips locked together. Richie let his hands run over Mike’s body in a way he never had before, trailing over his thigh and his hips and his side and his chest. Mike ran his fingers through Richie’s hair and sighed at how soft it was. God, he’d been imagining what it would feel like since he’d first seen his picture, and it more than lived up to his expectations. He ran his hands over Richie’s shoulders, over his back, feeling every movement as he ran his hands over Mike’s body. His mind went fuzzy when Richie sucked on his bottom lip with just a hint of teeth and tongue. Parting his lips further, Mike tugged on Richie’s shirt, desperate to feel him closer. Fuck, he was already getting hard. And now Richie was running his tongue over Mike’s, making him moan and squirm. Mike couldn’t remember that last time someone had kissed him like this, somehow both hungry and careful. It almost made him want to cry, the relief and ecstasy of finally getting what he’d been needing for so long. Of being wanted by someone he wanted so bad. The intimacy of trusting someone with his body. It was so nice not worrying if he was doing something wrong, because Richie was showing him just how much he wanted this too, he wasn’t holding back. 

In fact, after Mike didn’t even know how long, Richie started slipping his hand up Mike’s shirt, grazing his fingertips softly over the skin right above Mike’s waistband. Mike gasped and bucked his hips involuntarily up into Richie’s touch. “Not here,” he whispered, suddenly very aware that they were in public.

Richie laughed a bit. “What? I was just touching you a little.” The teasing condescension in his voice made Mike whine and squirm beneath him. As Mike clutched desperately at Richie’s shirt and let his eyes flutter open, he found that Richie’s pupils were blown wide as he drank in the sight of Mike underneath him, desperate and clearly hard. “God damn, you’re fucking hot,” Richie murmured, almost as if to himself. Mike didn’t know how to use his words anymore, so he looked toward the front seat and then back to Richie, his hands still fisted desperately in Richie’s clothes, like he was hanging onto him for dear life. “You wanna go back to my place, baby?”

Mike melted at the pet name. “Can we?” he asked. He sounded as wrecked as he felt, his voice high and soft and desperately hopeful. 

“Fuck yes,” Richie grinned. He pressed another heated kiss to Mike’s lips, then a softer one to his cheek, and helped him sit up. They climbed quietly out of the trunk, trying not to disturb the other movie-goers. Mike hoped no one noticed the obvious tent in his pants as he hurried to climb in the passenger seat. They rolled away slowly, only turning the headlights on once they were no longer in front of any other cars. Mercifully, Richie’s apartment was closer than Mike’s, but it was still twenty minutes away. He texted the address to Will.

**Will:** _ okay be safe _

**Will:** _ you owe me some of his money for this tho _

**Will:** _ love u! _

Mike laughed and shook his head. 

Richie lived across from the beach. Mike admired this as they took the elevator up to the seventh floor, but his thoughts were soon occupied only by Richie as he pulled Mike into him by his waist. Being pulled so easily like that, so gently, made him feel so light, like he was floating. It was a rush; this was really happening.

As soon as they were in Richie’s apartment, Richie’s lips were on Mike’s. He pulled him forward by his hips, guiding him past the kitchen through the living room. “You want the tour?” he paused to ask, a playful grin on his lips.

“Maybe later.”

Richie chuckled and lifted Mike up, eliciting a surprised noise from him. Richie was tall, sure, but he didn’t look like he’d be able to pluck a six foot guy from the ground like it was nothing. It made Mike’s skin tingle, and he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants as Richie kissed under his jaw. “Aw, you like that?” Richie asked, sitting Mike on the bed. Mike nodded, but he didn’t think he needed to; it was obvious in the front of his pants that he  _ really  _ liked it. He also really liked the way Richie leaned over him, taking his face in his hands and tilting Mike’s head back as he kissed him. Mike grabbed at Richie’s shirt again as Richie teased his tongue over Mike’s, leaving him chasing more when he pulled away. “Can I take this off, baby?” Richie asked, tugging at Mike’s shirt. Mike nodded and lifted his arms, happy to be free of it. Richie gently pressed down on Mike’s shoulders, laying him out. It made him feel on display, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in so long. His first instinct was to curl in on himself, to reach for his shirt, but Richie was running his hands over Mike’s chest and stomach like he was a treasure. His touch left a fire burning over Mike’s skin in its wake. “Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned, pressing an unexpected kiss to Mike’s stomach. Then, with little to no help needed on Mike’s part, Richie carefully positioned Mike so that his head rested on one of the pillows. Richie lingered above him for a moment, taking him in again before meeting Mike’s gaze, brushing his hair away from his eyes. It was such a gentle, intimate gesture, it nearly knocked the wind out of him. “You are so beautiful,” Richie told him with a smile. Mike could feel that he was still smiling when he kissed him; it absolutely made him melt back into the mattress.

“Want you,” Mike whined when Richie pulled away to kiss at Mike’s neck. Pulling at Richie’s shirt, he added, “Fuck, I want you so bad.” 

“Baby, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted you since I first saw you,” Richie said, kissing the corner of Mike’s mouth.

“Really?”

Richie sat back, running his hands over Mike’s chest. “Fuck yes, are you kidding me?” He pressed a kiss to Mike’s pec, then his collarbone. “Sticking out your tongue like that in that one picture, your pretty, shiny eyes…” He was kissing up Mike’s neck now, making him let out breathy little moans, his cock achingly hard. “And fuck, the first time I saw you in person… You don’t make it easy to be a gentleman.”

“I wanted you to take me home so bad that night,” Mike confessed with a small laugh. Biting his lip and meeting Richie’s gaze, he said, “The way you touch me, the way you talk to me… You make me so hard.” His body sang in excitement as he watched Richie’s eyes go dark and hungry. 

“Yeah, baby?” he grinned, palming at Mike’s hard on through his jeans. Mike gasped and rolled his hips into Richie’s touch, desperately seeking more. “God, you make the prettiest sounds and I’m barely even touching you. You’re a fucking angel.” Richie kissed him a few more times before sitting back. Mike let out a small sigh when Richie slipped his own shirt off. He couldn’t help but reach out and touch, admiring his freckles and acne scars, the faint suggestions of muscles under his soft skin. His hands ran down Richie’s stomach, over his sides where the remnants of stretch marks lined his hips. Mike smiled at the sight; he had similar ones of his own. But what really caught Mike’s attention was the dark trail of hair that disappeared under Richie’s waistband. Mike let his hand wander lower, over the long, thick outline of Richie’s cock, which strained against his jeans.

“Can I please blow you?” Mike asked, his mouth running ahead with his dick, leaving his brain behind. He blushed, thinking it had been a stupid way to ask, but Richie was looking at him like he had just blown his mind, like he wanted to devour Mike right there. Mike was more than happy to let him.

“You want that, baby?” Richie asked, lightly tracing Mike’s bottom lip with his thumb. With his other hand, he stroked his own cock through his jeans. Mike felt like he was in a dream. In the best fucking dream he’d had in as long as he could remember.

His eyes were wide as he whispered, “Please.”

“How do you want it?”

“On my knees.”

“ _ Fuck _ , you’re an angel,” Richie said, kissing Mike hungrily. He undid Mike’s belt, then his button and zipper, and soon Mike was helping him get his pants off. “A gorgeous, perfect fucking angel.” Mike slipped off the bed and eagerly dropped to his knees, but Richie stopped him. Tossing him a pillow, he said, his voice soft in a way that made Mike want to crawl to him, to melt into him, “Here, baby, kneel on this.” Mike did as Richie told him, situating himself comfortably on the pillow. Sure enough, it was a lot more forgiving on his knees than the floor. And then Richie was in front of him, dragging his zipper down right in front of Mike’s face. Mike licked his lips in anticipation. Richie must’ve noticed, because he took his time dragging his jeans down before his boxers, causing the waistband of his boxers to drag down just a bit, just enough to show Mike the coarse, dark hair there, just enough to tease the shit out of him. The outline of his cock was so much more prominent through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs, now that his jeans were pooled around his ankles. Mike wanted to get his mouth on it so bad, it felt like the only thing that mattered in that moment. 

With his eyes wide and pleading, he looked up at Richie and asked, “Please?”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned, “of course.”

Eager as he was, he was tentative when he leaned forward and pressed an experimental kiss to the outline of Richie’s cock. But it made Richie groan, and he was stroking Mike’s hair softly, and Richie smelled so fucking  _ good _ , it triggered that need in Mike. Then he was mouthing at Richie’s cock, sloppy and eager and desperate. And it was amazing, but he wanted more. He wanted what he had been fantasizing about for so long. Pressing one last kiss to his cock, he looked up at Richie and slid his fingers under his waistband.

“You want it in your mouth?” Richie asked. Mike nodded. Richie smirked and tugged his boxers down, and Mike let out a sound he probably would’ve been embarrassed by if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. Richie’s cock was fucking beautiful, and  _ big _ . Mike had never really cared about how big someone’s dick was, but fuck if it wasn’t hot to wrap his hand around Richie’s cock and find that his hand almost looked small. “Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Richie moaned as Mike stroked him. He still had his hand in Mike’s hair, fingers running through it in a way that helped calm his racing heart. Mike stuck his tongue out and lapped lightly at the head, licking up the bead of precome there. It tasted almost as good as Richie’s moan sounded. He licked at the tip a few more times before wrapping his lips around him and sucking just slightly on the head. The feeling of Richie in his mouth made his eyes roll back. He slid his mouth down Richie’s cock as far as it would go, letting it hit the back of this throat, and stayed there for a moment before pulling back. He stroked Richie’s cock a few times, getting it wet before diving back in. He felt Richie’s grip on his hair tighten as he bobbed his head, and it spurred him on. He drank in all the noises Richie made as he ran his tongue over the underside of his cock. God, he’d missed sucking cock. The smell of it, the taste, the weight on his tongue. And it was especially amazing with Richie, who grabbed gently at Mike’s hair as he just barely rocked his hips in and out of his mouth. Mike looked up at Richie, lips still wrapped around his cock, and found him watching Mike intently, like he couldn’t imagine looking away. It made Mike’s lower stomach fill with warmth. “Fuck, baby, look at you,” Richie groaned. “So fucking gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna fuck you.” Mike moaned at that, the sound muffled from having Richie’s cock down his throat. Richie moaned at the feeling. “Yeah, you want that? You want me to fuck you, baby?” Mike nodded as best he could while sucking Richie off. Richie gently pulled him off by his hair, and they both marvelled at the sight of a string of saliva that trailed from the head of Richie’s cock to Mike’s lips. It was so messy, so dirty and beautiful.

But then Richie was lifting Mike up again, and kissing him as he laid him down on the bed as he had done before. He took a moment to step out of his own pants before climbing onto the bed and slipping his fingers under the waistband of Mike’s underwear. Mike was still catching his breath as he watched Richie drag his boxers down and off his legs, his cock falling against his stomach. “You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” That made Mike glow;  _ pretty _ . He really, really liked that, and it must’ve shown, because Richie smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Aw, do you like that?” Mike gasped as Richie wrapped his hand around Mike’s cock, stroking it slowly. “You like it when I call you pretty?” Mike gave a little hum as he nodded, kissing Richie deeply. Richie moved his lips to Mike’s neck, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. Mike let out another moan, clinging to Richie. “You are so pretty, baby. Such a pretty little angel.” He sat up and reached over into his nightstand, pulling out lube and a condom. “This okay?”

Mike let out an emphatic, “Yes,” his cock bobbing in interest. 

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

Richie laughed. “You don’t even know what I was gonna ask!”

“Well, were you gonna ask me if I douched today?”

Richie was still smiling, and now his cheeks were a light pink as he bit his lip. “Yeah.”

“I did,” Mike said with a small, shy smile. “I have every time I’ve seen you.”

Richie’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Even for the ice cream date?”

Mike rolled his eyes with a small grin. “Okay, no, not that time. But every other time.”

“Fuck, how are you real?” Richie asked, kissing Mike again. “Can’t believe… Do you have any idea how bad I want you?” His voice was low and affected as he kissed Mike’s ear, making Mike whimper.

“Show me.”

Richie met his eyes, then kissed him hard one last time before trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. Heat spread through Mike’s body when he felt Richie spread his legs. “So gorgeous, baby,” Richie murmured into Mike’s skin. Mike ran his fingers through Richie’s curls, trying to see as Richie kissed him, his lips soft and teasing on his hips. He looked up over his glasses at Mike and winked right before he dragged his tongue up Mike’s cock. Mike let out a moan and dropped his head to the pillow, his eyes fluttering shut. He let himself get lost in the feeling of Richie stroking him, licking teasingly at his cock. It had been so long since someone had touched him like this; it felt so amazing he almost forgot why Richie was between his legs. But then he felt Richie’s finger circling his hole, warm and slick with lube, and Mike’s heart leapt in excitement. “Ready, baby?” Richie asked, mouthing at one of Mike’s balls.

Mike let out a broken, “Yes,” his grip on Richie’s curls tightening. He let out a satisfied groan as Richie slowly slid his finger inside of him. Fuck, it had been a while. But Richie seemed to sense this, and he went slowly. The way he was gently sucking on Mike’s balls helped, the pleasure making him relax as Richie slid his finger all the way in. God, Richie’s fingers went  _ deep _ . It felt amazing. Soon enough, Mike was begging for more, a string of pleas falling from his lips.

“Such good manners,” Richie teased. But he obliged Mike and carefully pressed another finger inside of him. Mike let out a moan as he did, gripping the sheets beneath him with the hand that wasn’t buried in Richie’s hair. It felt so good, being stretched open like this, and Richie was so careful about it. He scissored his fingers as he rocked them in and out of Mike, taking as much time as Mike needed. Mike sighed and melted into it as Richie ran his tongue over his cock again. Then Richie began to suck Mike off, his lips tight and wet around the head of Mike’s cock, cheeks hollowed. It made Mike squirm, pleasure overcoming all of his senses as Richie’s fingers brushed against his walls over, and over, and over, touching him in all the right places, in all the right ways. Speeding up at just the right time, playing with Mike’s balls with one hand and curling his fingers in just the right way with the other. It had Mike’s back arching off the bed, had him practically screaming out.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, his hips rocking, grinding down on Richie’s fingers. It was all so much; Richie’s mouth on him, the pads of his fingers brushing against his prostate every now and then, making his head spin. He could feel his pleasure building and building so quickly. “Richie,” he cried, somewhere between a whine and a warning, “Richie, gonna come if you keep doing that.” Unable to decide whether he wanted more or less, his mind telling him not to come yet while his body chased what it needed, Mike found himself squirming helplessly under Richie as he whined.

Richie popped his lips off Mike’s cock and gave him a wicked smile. “Promise?” He slid in a third finger, making Mike cry out again, his moans high and loud as he grabbed desperately at the sheets beneath him. “Think you’ll come from just this?” His voice was teasing in the best way; it had Mike’s toes curling. “God, I want you to, baby. Wanna make you come over and over again. Wanna make you feel fucking amazing.” With that, Richie traced the tip of his tongue along Mike’s rim, around his own fingers. Mike cried out as Richie’s tongue caught on his rim before running up his perineum, over his balls, up his cock. All the while, Richie was massaging Mike’s prostate, making his mind go numb as pleasure bloomed deep and bright inside of him. His eyes rolled back in his head as his mind went numb from the pleasure. All he could think was  _ so good  _ and  _ moremoremorepleasemore _ , but he wasn’t sure any of his thoughts were being voiced. He was just letting out a string of moans as Richie fingered him faster and told him how pretty he sounded.

“Oh,  _ oh _ ,” Mike moaned, his body going taut as his pleasure lingered just over the edge, about to spill over the brink.

“That’s it, baby,” Richie encouraged him. “Come for me.”

Richie wasn’t even touching Mike’s cock as he came; his orgasm came from deep inside of him, and it wracked through his entire body. His eyes screwed shut as he came, pleasure encompassing him completely, leaving him a boneless, panting mess when he came back down. 

When he managed to blink his eyes open, to once again become aware of his body, he noticed that Richie was pressing slow, soft kisses to his hips. He also noticed that Richie still had his fingers inside of Mike, and was rocking them so gently, just a bit, keeping Mike full. It was a little sensitive now, but his shallow movements felt amazing. Mike let out a broken sound when Richie stuck his tongue out and lapped at the come on Mike’s stomach. 

“Hey,” Richie said softly. He carefully sat up, keeping his fingers in Mike. He pressed a soft kiss to Mike’s lips. “How are you doing?” he asked with a smile.

“I feel like my soul left my body,” Mike laughed breathlessly. 

“Then I’ve done my job,” Richie grinned with a satisfied smile. Mike pulled him down for another kiss, their lips moving together languidly. Mike felt absolutely boneless, and with the way Richie dragged his tongue over Mike’s bottom lip, he felt like he could actually, literally melt into the mattress beneath him.

“Are you still gonna fuck me?” Miked asked.

“If you want me to.” He pressed his fingers in deeper then, making Mike let out a broken moan.

“Please,” he managed to gasp. He pulled Richie in for another kiss, dragging his teeth over Richie’s bottom lip. Pride glowed in his chest when Richie moaned. He ran his hand down over Richie’s chest, over his stomach, and wrapped his hand around Richie’s cock. He was still hard, and that made Mike moan. He felt so good in Mike’s hand, so hard and heavy. He couldn’t wait to feel Richie inside of him. “Richie,” he whined. 

“You ready?” Mike nodded, a needy pout on his face. “Fuck, you’re cute,” Richie grinned. And wow, Mike didn’t know he’d like being called cute, didn’t even know if Richie had meant for that to be hot, but it made him shiver. Richie gave Mike one last kiss before sitting up and slowly, gently pulling his fingers out of him. Mike whimpered at the loss, but the sight of Richie rolling a condom onto his cock more than made up for it. He watched, mesmerized as Richie poured a generous amount of lube onto himself and spread it over his cock, stroking himself over Mike as he knelt between his open legs. He spread his legs a little wider as Richie settled between them, showing Richie how badly he wanted it. Running his hands soothingly over Mike’s thighs, Richie pressed the head of his cock against Mike’s hole. Mike shuddered in anticipation. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Mike nodded, then rolled his hips, making Richie chuckle. “Alright, alright, no need to be impatient.” 

Any lingering laughter died on both of their lips as Richie pressed inside. Mike let out a small squeak at the blunt pressure; it was familiar yet so new. It didn’t hurt, but he was gonna need some time to adjust. Richie went deeper slowly, so slowly, his eyes on Mike the entire time. Mike could feel himself losing his breath with every inch Richie gave him, but it was a good breathless. He felt weightless in a way he hadn’t in so long, and the more Richie gave him, he began to realize that he had never felt this way before, had never felt this  _ good _ . Richie was massaging Mike’s hip gently, then he was running his hand over Mike’s chest, all the while telling him how good he was doing in a soft, low voice. Finally, he felt Richie’s hips pressed against his thighs, heard Richie let out a groan. Mike let out the breath he was holding and slowly took in another. Fuck, Richie was so deep inside of him. He had toys he used, sure, but this was so different. Richie was even bigger than them, and Mike could feel Richie’s cock throbbing inside of him, could he feel him aching to move. He looked up and saw Richie’s glasses sliding down his nose, his hair wild and eyes hooded and dark. His lips hung open as he caught his breath. “You doing okay?” he asked, brushing Mike’s hair out of his face.

Mike nodded, letting his lungs refill, letting his heart find a steady pace. “I’m good. It’s just really deep, need a minute.”

Richie took one of Mike’s hands in his and kissed his knuckles. “Take as long as you need.”

Mike let himself relax, bit by bit, until he could bring his legs up a little closer toward himself. They both gasped at the movement, even just a slight shift setting them off. “Will you kiss me?” Mike asked, his voice high and breathless. Richie nodded with wide eyes and leaned down, bringing their lips together. The new angle pushed him even deeper inside Mike, who hungrily swallowed Richie’s moans. “Please,” he whispered against Richie’s lips. Richie nodded and kissed him one last time before sitting up again, holding himself up over Mike. From this close Mike could see Richie’s freckles vividly. Richie’s long curls hung around their faces like a curtain, blocking out the rest of the world. Mike took in a sharp breath as Richie pulled out, but the kisses Richie planted over Mike’s collarbone helped him find his breath again. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Mike’s eyes were fluttering shut, a drawn out moan falling from his lips.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Mike didn’t have to open his eyes to know there was a soft grin on Richie’s face.

“Mhm,” Mike moaned, unable to form words at this point. Richie was slowly, steadily rocking in and out of him now. Mike could feel himself getting hard again. Richie was all around him, he could feel the heat from his body as their chests just barely grazed together, could hear his little breathy moans every time he thrusted into Mike. 

Soon his thrusts were getting faster, harder, and Mike felt his body rocking in time with Richie’s, moving however Richie made it. The thought had him leaking all over himself as his cock throbbed, had him crying out, the sound of his moans ringing through Richie’s room as he grasped at the sheets beneath him. “Fuck, yes, fuck me,” he moaned, his voice high and needy. 

“Fuck, you sound so pretty, baby,” Richie cooed, panting. “You feel so fucking good on my cock, holy shit.” Richie’s words only spurred Mike on further, more moans spilling from his lips as he lost control of the noises he was making. He must’ve let out a particularly desperate whine, as Richie lifted himself up and ran one of his fingers teasingly over Mike’s cock. Mike cried out at the contact, still sensitive from having already come. But his light touch felt amazing, and soon Mike was begging for more, Richie’s cock still filling him up, still fucking him just right.

“Please,” Mike whined, “please touch me. Fuck, it’s so good, need more, please.” He was rocking his hips now, meeting Richie’s thrusts, fucking himself down on his cock as best he could. It just felt so  _ good _ , his body told him to chase it and chase it more and more until he got to that beautiful place he needed so badly, that place he couldn’t believe he had just come down from.

“Aw, you wanna come again, baby?” Richie murmured. As he leaned down to press a kiss to Mike’s jaw, he wrapped his hand around Mike’s cock, making him cry out again. Richie’s hand, his mouth, his cock, all of it was so much. He had Mike writhing under him in minutes. 

Richie shifted a bit, angling his hips just a bit differently, fucking Mike just a bit harder, and suddenly fireworks were sizzling through Mike’s body, catching every nerve on fire. “Fuck!” he gasped. Grasping at the headboard above him with one hand and holding onto Richie’s arm with the other, he braced himself as Richie’s cock repeatedly grazed over that spot inside of him. “Right there, right there,” he moaned. “Oh my god, oh my  _ fuck _ ,  _ yes, yes, yes _ .” He could feel himself drowning in that feeling again, pleasure pulling at him. 

“Fuck, feels so good, angel,” Richie moaned. Mike could tell from his strokes, from his thrusts, that Richie was getting close too. And that had Mike’s mouth running with no hope of him controlling it.

“Come in me,” he panted, the tension inside him pulling tighter as Richie’s moans got louder, more desperate. Mike opened his eyes to watch Richie fall apart on top of him. He wanted to make Richie feel amazing. “Please, please it’s so good, wanna make you come, want you to come inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby.” And then Richie was burying his face in Mike’s neck and biting down as he came, muffling his moans as he ground his hips against Mike’s, pressing in deep. Mike stroked his hair and moaned as he did. He could feel Richie twitching inside of him, could feel him shaking where his chest was now pressed against Mike’s. As soon as he could, Richie lifted his head and pressed a wet, messy kiss to Mike’s lips. Mike chased it, wanting to lose himself in the feeling of Richie’s lips on his, but then Richie was pulling back, and slowly pulling out. Mike’s heart shot into his throat as Richie settled himself on the bed, his head between Mike’s thighs. He gave Mike a fucked out grin before gripping his cock in his hand and dipping his head down. Mike gasped as Richie’s tongue circled his hole and then thrust in.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” he cried, once again gripping the sheets. Richie knew what he was doing and Mike had already been so close. It only took a few minutes before he was spilling himself all over Richie, the feeling even more intense this time. White hot pleasure hit him like a train, had him arching off the bed as Richie took him apart. He gasped for breath as he came down, his cock twitching from the aftershocks. His entire body felt so warm, so loose. He felt like he could pass out right then and there.

And then suddenly Richie’s lips were on his shoulder, his hand stroking lightly over Mike’s chest. He blearily blinked his eyes open to find Richie smiling at him. “Hi there,” he grinned.

Mike gave a small laugh. “Hi.” 

“That was fucking amazing.”

As Mike came back to earth, he remembered where he was, really processed what had just happened. It kind of blew his mind. “Yeah, fuck,” he grinned. His heart soared when Richie lay down beside him and pulled him into his arms.

“You want pizza?”

“I don’t know if I can move right now,” Mike admitted, his cheeks pink. There was a satisfied throbbing between his legs, and his entire body was buzzing. 

Richie laughed beside him. And Mike could  _ feel _ it. He could feel Richie’s skin against his own. He was allowed to rest all of his weight onto him, to close his eyes and rest his head on Richie’s chest. It made his head spin. His heart would’ve been racing, but he was far too comfortable, too content, too happy right where he was. “I’ll take care of it,” Richie said. 

And that, the softness in his voice, the way he kissed Mike’s forehead and pulled him closer, it all felt like a dream. Here he was, living the fantasy he’d been trying to not let himself sink into too indulgently. Richie was here, holding him, not kicking him out but rather offering to get him pizza. Mike felt like he was glowing. He felt wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! so school starts for me on tuesday. i have enough written to post every friday until september 25th. after that i truly can offer no guarantees, but i'll try to keep you all updated! hope you enjoyed the smut, there's so much more to come lol
> 
> also! if there's anything i forgot to warn for or that you need tagged, please lmk!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he woke, it was slowly. Then, that jolt of waking up in an unfamiliar bed hit him, making his eyes fly open. Things quickly came back to him as he spotted the Switch controllers by the TV, and his own clothes on the floor. Beside him, Richie was still asleep, his hair a mess splayed across his pillow. His face looked soft; the sight made Mike smile. The sheets were slipping off his shoulder, just enough to reveal a peek of freckles. Mike wanted to reach out, to touch, but he wasn’t sure if he should, if he was allowed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: very brief mention of vomit and blood; very brief mention of feminization; brief contemplations on age play
> 
> this chapter's kinks: shower sex, light come play, light praise, multiple orgasms/light overstimulation

Richie ended up shrugging his jeans back on once the pizza came, but Mike was surprised to find that he was comfortable staying in just his boxers. As they ate, no longer laser focused on getting fucked, Mike took the time to look around Richie’s kitchen and living room. It was a ridiculously nice space; Mike had been hesitant to eat on the couch, but Richie had insisted. “I haven’t met my cuddle quota yet, and I don’t wanna make your pretty little ass sit on those stools, they’re awful.” So they were on the couch, leaning into each other as they ate, some random home improvement or cooking show on the TV. Mike really wasn’t paying attention. He was far too distracted by the way Richie’s shoulder touched his own, the way Richie bumped his knee against Mike’s every now and then.

Mike insisted on helping clean up, putting the dishes in the dishwasher as Richie put away the leftover pizza. Mike had just closed the dishwasher when Richie blurted out, “Do you wanna stay over tonight?”

Mike looked at him, his eyes wide. He’d been trying not to think about that, to not get his hopes up. And now Richie was blushing.

“Unless you don’t want to. I haven’t slept with someone I wanted to see again in a while. I get it if you have shit you gotta do tomorrow, or if it’s too soon or whatever. I just… yeah, want you to, but no pressure.”

Mike smiled, touched and bewildered. He was making Richie flustered?

“I wanna stay over.”

He didn’t know if that was the right thing to say, he didn’t know if that was what people did after sleeping together for the first time. But Richie wanted to see him again, he’d just said it. It made Mike feel so special, and that warm feeling, that feeling of wanting and being wanted, came floating back down onto him, like a blanket. It pulled him toward Richie, and he stepped into his arms and kissed him. It felt right. It felt so, so nice.

Richie, Mike learned, had a TV, an Xbox, and a Switch in his bedroom. “I also have a Wii in the living room if that’s more your speed,” he offered.

They ended up in Richie’s bed playing Smash. Mike nearly quit when Richie beat him with Kirby, and then again with King DeDeDe, but Mike finally beat him with Samus. After that it was a pretty fair fight as they switched through the characters, debating the strengths and weaknesses of each one. Richie was incredible, but Mike could definitely hold his own, thank you very much. It even got to the point where Richie started poking and shoving at him to make him mess up, which led to tickling, which led to Mike giggling breathlessly beneath Richie. And, well, neither of them were too interested in the game after that.

Going to sleep in an unfamiliar bed was weird, and scary. Scarier was the thought of falling asleep next to someone so new in his life, someone he really liked. What if he talked in his sleep? What if he moved around too much? What if Richie ended up regretting asking him to stay over?

His worries subsided, however, once he was in Richie’s arms. They were both in just their boxers, so Mike could feel Richie’s bare skin against his own, practically everywhere. They talked until they were mumbling, sleep tugging at both of them as their lips moved together slowly. It was weird, to be in someone’s bed kissing them without the expectation of sex. Mike’s longest relationship since El had lasted less than a year, and even that had been a while ago. Besides that, he’d mostly been working with one night stands for a few years now. But Richie was so warm, and he was holding Mike so gently, and everything around him smelled like Richie. He felt safe in a way that every part of his brain told him to question. But there was this feeling, something stronger than his anxieties that told him he was going to be okay. It was in the way he giggled with Richie as he put his glasses away and so clearly couldn’t see. It was in the way Richie asked if he wanted the lights on or off. It was in the way Richie rubbed Mike’s back as he talked, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. It was in the way he drifted off peacefully to the lulling sensation of Richie stroking his hair.

When he woke, it was slowly. Then, that jolt of waking up in an unfamiliar bed hit him, making his eyes fly open. Things quickly came back to him as he spotted the Switch controllers by the TV, and his own clothes on the floor. Beside him, Richie was still asleep, his hair a mess splayed across his pillow. His face looked soft; the sight made Mike smile. The sheets were slipping off his shoulder, just enough to reveal a peek of freckles. Mike wanted to reach out, to touch, but he wasn’t sure if he should, if he was allowed. 

Eventually, he had to pee, so he pulled on the closest shirt to him—the t-shirt Richie had worn the night before—and took care of that, as well as taking a moment to at least try to fix his hair. He also brushed his teeth, with his finger like he had before going to bed. When he came back, Richie was still passed out. Mike checked his phone for the time; it was just after nine. Charlie would be fine by himself for a few more hours. He checked his messages, scrolled through some apps, tried to pass the time, but a slew of worries were threatening to fall onto him, and he had way too much antsy energy. He had to get it out somehow. So he walked to the window, where a pair of floor length curtains hung, and hoped to get a view of the ocean. He pulled the curtains aside slowly, careful not to let too much light flood in so as to not wake Richie up. To his surprise and delight, he found the window was actually a door to a balcony. He quietly stepped out, grateful for the fresh air, for the sea breeze. Mike couldn’t believe Richie had a balcony looking out onto the ocean. He leaned on the railing, admiring the view of the morning sun on the waves.

He thought about Richie, inside. What was the protocol here? Were they gonna get breakfast? Were they gonna have sex again? The rational part of Mike’s brain told him that Richie wouldn’t have invited him to sleep over just to kick him out in the morning, but anxiety had never stopped to be rational. God, he wished Richie would wake up. He needed help here. 

Fortunately, it was only a matter of minutes before he heard the balcony door sliding open. “There you are,” Richie mumbled, his voice thick from sleep. “Thought you ran out on me.”

“Just wanted to check out the view,” Mike grinned, happily settling back into Richie’s embrace as he wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist. “It’s so nice.” He sighed when Richie kissed his hair. A thought popped up in his brain:  _ is this what it’s like? _

Richie ran his hand over Mike’s side. “I think you’re the view,” Richie murmured, and Mike could hear the grin in his voice. “‘Specially like the sight of you in my shirt.”

Mike glowed and turned his head to face Richie. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Richie nuzzled his nose against Mike’s, then pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. He tasted like mint. “Seriously, I really, really like it.” Richie’s hands fell to Mike’s hips. Mike gasped when he felt Richie roll his hips against Mike’s, his cock hard against the soft curve of Mike’s ass.

“Richie, people can see,” Mike whined. Crossing his legs to hide his growing boner, he was suddenly very aware that he was only wearing boxers.

“Honestly, I think it’s a public service.”

“Actually, I think that’s called public indecency.”

Richie laughed and kissed Mike’s ear, making him shiver. “Aw, baby, do I make you indecent?”

Mike turned in Richie’s arms, hiding the tent in his boxers by pressing it against Richie’s. “ _ Yes _ ,” he said, already breathless. Richie just laughed again and kissed him before leading him inside. 

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast and fuel up before we start getting too frisky.”

Mike sat on a stool at the counter and watched as Richie made them French toast. He’d let Mike help with putting the eggs and bread away, but he insisted on making them himself. When Mike whined about wanting to help, Richie just said, “You have no idea how much you’re helping by sitting there looking that pretty.” Mike made a face that made Richie laugh. “Listen, I like cooking for you! I wanna be a good host!”

“And I wanna thank you for—” Mike cut himself off, a blush rising to his cheeks.

Richie gave him an amused smile as he plated their breakfasts. “For the orgasms?” Mike rolled his eyes but nodded. Richie set their plates down and sat next to Mike, nudging him playfully with his shoulder. “Only way to thank me for that is to let me do it again.” Mike’s thoughts must have shown on his face, like they always did, because Richie softened and kissed his hair. “Listen, Mikey, I seriously really like cooking for you, and doing things for you. The people who’ve been coming around here these past few years haven’t really bothered sticking around for breakfast, or even staying the night. I’m not used to… this, but I like it. I wanna dote on you.” He said this last part with a wink, and Mike couldn’t help but smile. He really liked the idea of someone doting on him, but it felt so foreign.

“I guess I’m just not used to this,” he said, somewhat shy now. That question lingered in the back of his mind,  _ what is “this?” _ But he never actually asked. He didn’t want to jinx anything. 

Once breakfast was all cleaned up, they found themselves both sticky messes, syrup all over their hands and mouths. They only made it worse with how much they were kissing and touching each other. Syrup was in their hair and on their necks and cheeks. “This is so gross,” Mike giggled, clearly not giving a fuck about it.

“Oh no, guess we’ll have to wash it off,” Richie teased with an exaggerated waggle—honest to god  _ waggle _ —of his eyebrows.

A small smirk pulled at Mike’s lips as he looked Richie in the eye. “Oh no.”

If it was strangely intimate to shower with someone he barely knew, well, Mike didn’t know that, and Richie seemed to be just going for whatever his brain told him he wanted, as far as Mike could tell. And judging by his former comments about people not staying the night, Mike figured Richie was about as rusty as he was when it came to someone who wanted to stick around. Mike couldn’t stop himself from wondering how many people there had been who didn’t want to stick around. What they looked like. How he compared.

But then Richie was taking him by the hand and helping him into the shower.

Things started out innocently enough. There was the matter of being covered in syrup that they had to attend to. There was room enough in the shower for two, or even three honestly, but they stayed close together. And when Richie poured soap into his hands, he rubbed it over Mike’s shoulders and neck and chest rather than his own. Mike ducked his head and grinned before following suit. His hands moved so smoothly over Richie’s skin, leaving trails of bubbles in their wake. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Richie’s chest, but his lips came away soapy, and he had to rinse his mouth out to get rid of the taste; Richie was cackling behind him the entire time.

“Here, let me shampoo you,” he said once his giggles had subsided. Mike still had a grumpy pout on his face, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to feel Richie’s fingers running through his hair. 

Richie took him by his shoulders and carefully spun him around, then brushed his hair back out of his face. His shampoo smelled fresh and free, like pine, and some spice Mike couldn’t quite place. Richie’s fingers were strong but gentle as he worked the shampoo into Mike’s hair. Mike let his eyes flutter shut. The stream of water was just a light sprinkling on his arms now, as Richie was blocking most of it, keeping it out of Mike’s hair. It was so nice, so warm and comforting. Mike nearly slipped, he got so lost in it, had to lean on the shower wall. 

“You good there?” Richie asked with a chuckle.

“Mhm.”

“Here, let’s rinse, okay?”

Mike went where Richie guided him, helping him get the suds out.

And then, his heart thumping, he returned the favor. Richie had to bend over a bit, which made them both laugh, but Richie was letting out a happy sigh once Mike’s fingers were in his hair. He worked through the knots slowly, gently, letting Richie’s curls fall through his fingers. Richie had to do most of the work rinsing, because Mike just got water in his eyes when he tried, but Richie thanked him for his “valiant efforts” and gave him a kiss. Which turned into more. And then they were pressed together, Richie’s tongue just barely teasing over Mike’s, his teeth scraping lightly over Mike’s bottom lip. Mike whimpered as Richie pulled him closer, their cocks both hard as they slid against one another. Mike bucked his hips, wanting more, but Richie turned him so that he was leaning back against Richie, his back to Richie’s chest. The feeling of Richie’s cock grinding against his ass was nice, but his mind was soon taken elsewhere when Richie wrapped his hand around Mike’s cock and slid his other hand over his chest, teasing his nipples. “Oh, fuck,” Mike moaned brokenly. He dropped his head back, resting it on Richie’s shoulder.

“Feel good, baby?” Richie murmured, pressing a kiss to Mike’s neck.

“Yes,” Mike whimpered. He rolled his hips mindlessly, seeking out the pleasure Richie was giving him. He twisted his wrist just right as he stroked him, loose and slow. “M-more, please.” 

“Do you want it faster, baby? Tighter?” Mike cried out as Richie tightened his grip just below the head of Mike’s cock.

“Yes, oh fuck, oh my god, right there,” Mike rambled, already a moaning mess. 

“Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan for me like that,” Richie groaned. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, fuck, look at you, already shaking all pretty for me.” Mike could only moan at this point, words failing him as Richie’s went straight to his cock. He could feel Richie’s hips moving as he thrust his cock against Mike’s ass. Heat washed over Mike at the thought that Mike’s moans, that Mike’s pleasure was turning Richie on. “Think you’re gonna come from this, baby? Think you’re gonna make a pretty little mess for me?”

“Oh fuck,  _ yes _ ,” Mike moaned. Fuck, no one had ever talked to him like this, not this confidently, like it came naturally to him. Mike could feel his pleasure building rapidly, the tension in his lower stomach just about ready to snap.

“God, you’re so perfect. Come for me, sweetheart.”

It was the pet name that sent Mike over the edge. Richie wrapped his free arm around Mike’s waist, holding him up as his legs threatened to give out. His pleasure wracked through him, and he came hard, all over Richie’s hand and shower. When he managed to blink his eyes open, he saw that he’d even gotten some on the shower curtain.

“Fuck,” he sighed with a small laugh. Richie chuckled behind him.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, pressing a small kiss to Mike’s ear.

God, he felt like he was floating. But also like he couldn’t stand. Mostly, he wanted Richie, he wanted to feel his cock down his throat. So he turned in Richie’s arms and dropped to his knees. He pressed kisses to Richie’s hip, to his thigh, before smiling up at him sweetly.

“Fuck, angel,” Richie moaned. He took Mike’s chin in his hand, stroked his thumb over his bottom lip. Mike shivered at the feeling. He wanted more. He wanted so much more. “So beautiful like this… are you comfortable?” Mike nodded. The shower floor wasn’t the softest thing in the world, but Richie had a gel mat that helped. And besides, Mike had other things on his mind. To show Richie this, he wrapped his lips around the tip of Richie’s thumb, sucking on it lightly. Mike smiled when Richie let out a soft, “Oh fuck.” He dipped his head and licked tentatively at one of Richie’s balls before sucking it into his mouth, running his tongue over Richie’s skin. Richie let out a groan and fell back against the shower wall, his fingers weaving into Mike’s hair, encouraging him. Mike hummed in satisfaction at the feeling. Replacing his mouth with his hand, he ran his lips loosely over Richie’s shaft until he was pressing light kisses to the head of his cock. But soon he couldn’t take it, couldn’t resist how badly he needed to feel Richie down his throat. He looked up at Richie with wide eyes as he lapped at the tip of his cock a few more times before wrapping his lips around him and sinking down, letting his eyes flutter shut. Richie cursed in surprise, his grip on Mike’s hair tightening as Mike took him further and further. He hadn’t done this in a while, so he gagged pretty quickly, had to pull off for air sooner than he would’ve liked. But as he stroked Richie with his hand and caught his breath, he looked up and saw that Richie looked absolutely wrecked. So he guessed he was doing something right. He took Richie into his mouth again, going slower this time, making sure to relax his throat. He got about half of his cock down with ease, but then it started to get difficult. But difficult didn’t mean bad. In fact, he fucking loved it, loved the feeling of Richie’s cock stretching his throat out. And he loved the noises Richie made when Mike swallowed around him. He was able to stay like that for a few moments, but then he got a little too confident and tried to take even more. He ended up gagging again, the sound echoing off the walls of the shower, along with Richie’s moans. He gasped for breath as he pulled off. 

“You doing okay?” Richie asked breathlessly.

Mike nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. You’re so big, holy shit.” He admired Richie’s length as he stroked him. His hand almost looked small around him; he really liked that.

Richie was smirking down at him. “You like that?”

“Fuck yes, oh my god.” Mike leaned forward, pressing kisses all over Richie’s cock, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot just under the head. Richie moaned, making Mike’s body hum happily. “I can still feel it from last night.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie moaned, bucking into Mike’s hand. “You looked so fucking good last night, all spread out on my cock. And you look like a fucking angel on your knees, holy fuck. Your lips look fucking amazing wrapped around my cock. And your  _ eyes _ , fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

Mike was glowing from the praise. “Yeah? Do you think I’d look pretty with your come on my face?”

He surprised himself with that, and judging by the way Richie’s eyes widened, Mike thought he surprised him too. “Fuck yes, baby, you’d look so fucking good all covered in come. You want that?” he asked, holding Mike’s jaw with one hand and stroking his wet hair with the other. “Want me to come all over your pretty little face?”

Mike let out a broken, “Please,” as he nodded.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Richie said. And then he was gently guiding Mike’s mouth open and sliding his cock inside. Mike eagerly hollowed his cheeks, sucking on Richie’s cock, teasing his tongue just below the head. He used one hand to stroke Richie’s shaft and the other to gently massage his balls, humming around Richie’s cock when Richie moaned. “Fuck, that’s it baby, just like that. So fucking good, you look so good like this baby. Yeah, fuck, right there, that’s it, good boy.”

_ Good boy _ .

Mike moaned at that. Fuck, he was hard again, so suddenly it almost hurt. He had to reach down and grab himself, had to relieve some of the pressure.

“Aw, you like that?” Richie marvelled. “You like being a good boy for me while you suck my cock?” Mike looked up at him and nodded as best he could. As he sucked Richie down, he began stroking himself in time with how he was stroking Richie. “Such a good boy. You gonna come all over yourself for me?” Mike whined again; fuck, yeah, he was. “So sweet, baby. You look so pretty when you come. Love seeing you all hard and desperate just from sucking my cock. You’re so, so good for me, baby, come on, be a good boy and come for me.” Mike deepthroated Richie as he came, his moans and cries muffled by Richie’s cock as he came all over his hand, his orgasm sharp and electric, making his skin buzz as he came down. “Oh, fuck,” Richie moaned. He pulled suddenly out of Mike’s mouth and tugged Mike’s hair just enough to get his head to fall back a bit. And then Richie was stroking himself, fast. Mike stuck his tongue out and let his eyes fall shut as Richie’s moans got louder, as his strokes got faster. And then he felt that warmth splash across his face, tasted it on his tongue. He even felt some dripping down his chest, which was so hot it had his spent cock twitching. 

“Oh my god,” Richie groaned. Mike licked his lips and swallowed as he let his eyes open. He gave Richie a sweet smile, absolutely glowing under the hungry look Richie was giving him. Richie held his face gently, sweetly, and swiped his thumb through the mess on Mike’s cheeks. Mike was still smiling as Richie fed him his come. It tasted bitter, but it was so fucking good. “I hate to say this because you look like an angel, and I would love to see you covered in come, like, all the fucking time, but let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Mike nodded and got to his feet, with Richie’s help. He leaned on Richie for support as he washed his face and chest, getting clean—again.

“We should do that some time when I have my glasses on,” Richie said as he dried Mike off. “It was a fucking sight even blurry as hell, can’t imagine how nice the HD experience must be.” Richie’s towels were unbelievably fluffy as he wrapped Mike in one, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Mike happily let Richie dry him off and sit him on the toilet. He liked being taken care of and shown where to go, where to sit. He liked it a lot. 

Soon after, they were curled up on Richie’s couch, kissing slowly, letting their hands roam over each other. But Mike’s mind was racing. All he could think was  _ goodboygoodboygoodboy.  _ He couldn’t help but linger on how amazing that had felt, on how quickly it had made him come. And Richie had said it first, and he seemed to really like it, too. So eventually Mike gathered the courage to ask, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Richie’s eyes scanned Mike’s. “Go for it.”

Mike took a deep breath. “Okay, so… you mentioned, like, calling you daddy in your Tinder profile?” Mike’s face was bright red. But there was a smile quickly spreading over Richie’s lips.

“Yeah?” Mike gasped as Richie’s voice dropped, as he ran his hand more pointedly over Mike’s chest. “Did that catch your attention, baby?”

Mike faltered. “Are you actually into that?”

“I’m so into that. Are you?” Mike found it a little easier to breathe as Richie stroked his hair. He was,  _ god, _ he was into that, he’d read enough explicit fanfiction and stumbled across enough shit on the internet to know that. But it was so weird to admit out loud, even though Richie just had.

“I… I think so,” he finally managed. 

“Are you interested in BDSM stuff? I mean, I’m guessing you are, because you swiped right on my profile, but just wanna make sure.”

Mike nodded. “I don’t… Most of what I know comes from the internet. I’ve tried some stuff, but never like, in depth? I don’t know. But yeah, yes, I’m interested.”

Richie’s eyes scanned Mike’s. “I’m gonna go print something for you.” He was up before Mike could even express his confusion. But he was back in a few minutes with some sheets of paper in his hands. “Okay, so this might be a lot, but you seem like you’re into this kind of thing. Professors like worksheets, right?” Mike raised his eyebrows. He was so lost. When Richie sat beside him and set the papers on the table, his skin turned bright red. It did in fact look like a worksheet, with questions and spaces for Mike to provide long answers. And one page was a list. A list that contained words like cockwarming and ball gags and collars. 

“Is this like, a contract?” Mike asked.

“Sort of. Less boring and technical though. It’s more of a questionnaire, really.” Richie placed a firm, comforting hand on Mike’s thigh. “I want you to write down what you’re interested in and why, if you can, and on this list I want you to mark your yeses, maybes, and nos. So nos are hard limits, things you definitely don’t wanna try, and maybes are soft limits, so things you’re curious about or want to try, but might be nervous or hesitant about. Capiche?”

Mike nodded.

“You don’t have to do this if it’s too formal, but a lot of people find it really helpful. And maybe it’s just the professional dom in me, but I have a lot of fun with these.” Mike tried not to get caught up on what  _ a lot of people  _ meant. “If you don’t know what something is, you can Google it or ask me, whichever makes you more comfortable. Probably best to do both, gather information, fact check and all that. But, again, if this is too much just say so, we can scrap it, do it however you want.”

“No, I like it. It’s definitely helpful.” His eyes scanned the list. “Why are some crossed off?”

“Those are my hard limits.”

There weren’t many. 

“Can I call you if I have questions?”

“Of course. You can call me any time. For anything, sexy or not.” Mike grinned as Richie kissed him. 

Mike looked over the questions. “What if… What if I don’t quite know what exactly I want? Or why I want it?”

“We can go over that together. Talking it through usually helps clear things up. And I’ve seen a lot, so I’ve gotten good at putting vague sub feelings into words.” Mike found that both comforting and intimidating. He liked the idea of Richie helping him, but he couldn’t help the jealous feeling that crept up at the idea of how many other people he’d done things like this with.

“Like, professional experience? Or…”

Richie shrugged. “Both. Mostly professional. I only ever really got into dom/sub stuff with Sandy, my ex-girlfriend. Like I said, haven’t really seen anyone consistently in a while.” With a wry smile, he added, “Kink negotiation usually comes after breakfast.”

Mike had questions, but he decided to table them. There would be other chances to ask. He figured he should get his own thoughts and desires sorted out first.

But the thoughts nagged at him once he was home. He was fine in Richie’s car, with Richie holding his hand and kissing him at red lights and stop signs. He could keep his insecurities at bay when Richie was smiling at him and laughing with him and flirting with him. But when he was back in his apartment, trying to get work done, the contract nagged at him. What Richie had said nagged at him. 

Richie was so… experienced. How could Mike possibly not be a let down? How could he keep up? Mike didn’t even know anything about Richie’s ex, but that just made the whole comparing himself to her thing worse, because he could make her out to be as perfect as his mind could conjure. He knew he needed to stop. He was making his own skin crawl; he didn’t need to be jealous. Jealousy stemmed from possessiveness, and Mike was so scared of being overly possessive. He’d just met Richie, had only slept with him once—well, twice, but in one visit. How well did they know each other? How well did you have to know someone before you could be jealous of their exes? Mike didn’t want to be jealous of anyone. He got such a sinking feeling of guilt whenever he was jealous. And this terrible, heavy dread, like he was being clingy, like he was being too much. 

But… Richie wanted him. Richie wanted to know what he wanted. The papers stared up at him, all of the questions asking what Mike wanted. What he wanted from Richie. And Richie was apparently willing to give him most of the things on the list he’d given Mike. It made his head spin to think about it. There were so many things Mike wanted to try.

There were some things on the list that were new to him, but there were also a lot of things Mike had been wanting to try for a really long time. He had just never had the opportunity. Hesitantly, shyly, he had tried to bring things up to past partners. But he was only ever close to El and one other person, a boyfriend he’d had for a little less than a year, a guy named Emmet. Emmet was nice, but he was quiet, and shy, and kind of vanilla. And when he wasn’t vanilla, he was mostly submissive. El was more adventurous than Emmet, and better at being dominant, but she had her own reservations. She was afraid of hurting people, she didn’t want to control other people. It was something she worried about in life, and it translated into sex. So she only really got adventurous when she was the sub. Mike was pretty good at being dominant; he was good at taking control, at caring for people. And he loved doing that, in his day to day. But it was the exact opposite of what he wanted in bed. 

He had always wanted to be submissive. He was someone with so much to say when his mind was going, and his mind was always,  _ always  _ going. He wanted someone to turn it off for him. He wanted a break from all the responsibility, from the leadership positions and caretaker roles he almost exclusively sought in his everyday life. He read about subbing as an escape, he’d read about subspace, and he wanted to get there so bad. He wanted someone to take care of him, just every now and then. But he’d never had anyone who he trusted who wanted to do that for him, or knew how. Not until now.

He had that person now. Richie was who he’d been wanting for, yearning for this whole time. The thought made him glow. It made him feel good about himself. There was someone who wanted to give him what he wanted. It was hard to believe, but fuck was he happy that it was real, that this was actually happening for him.

Of course, when things were good, then the fear of losing it all came.

But he couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t think about messing things up. Right now, things seemed to be working out, and he had to work with that. He had to chase it,  _ enjoy  _ it, for fuck’s sake. And protect it.

He forced himself to get some work done, creating most of a test he was giving that week. But the contract—questionnaire?—called to him, beckoned him. He was too excited about it not to start on it. 

He started by putting his name at the top of the page. Then he went over what Richie’s hard limits were. They were only crossed out with one line, so he could read them. He was kind of glad that these things were crossed off; some were tame, like foot stuff, but there were others that made him wince, or make faces. Things like vomit, feces, electrocution, cock and ball torture, fire play. Things Mike definitely would’ve crossed off on his own. 

Lots of things were  _ on _ the table that made Mike’s eyes widen. Like knife play. And blood. He also didn’t have piss crossed off. Or ageplay. Or exhibitionism.

…Hm.

Did Mike want to cross those off?

Ultimately, there was a decent list of things Richie didn’t have crossed off that Mike crossed off. After those were out of the way, Mike went through and sorted things out by things he was really interested in and his soft limits. He pulled out a clean sheet of paper and started his lists.

The soft limits list was a little easier, if only because they were quicker. That list contained mostly the things on Richie’s list that had piqued Mike’s curiosity: piss play, knife play, blood play, gags, sensation play, pet play, crops, feminization, and exhibitionism. Age play was on there too, then crossed off. Should that be a hard limit? There was so much going on there. Some of it he wanted on the hard limits, some of it he wanted on his “god yes please” list. Like, the lightest aspects of it. Come to think of it, were those things even age play? Or just regular dom stuff? He put it in a category all its own; he could discuss that with Richie. Honestly, there were a lot of things on his soft limits list that lingered somewhere between soft and hard, things he was curious about in theory but didn’t see himself ever  _ really _ wanting to try. But what if Richie really liked them? Would he be willing to try them if Richie wanted to? He supposed that’s why he and Richie were going to go over it, so Mike could clarify things like that.

Then came the things he was excited about. And oh man, there were a lot. 

Daddy kink was at the top. And praise. But also degradation, and all that it came with (name calling, teasing, spit kink, even writing on Mike’s body, which he’d never thought of before but was intrigued by). And the list went on: dirty talk; pet names; hair pulling; breath play; manhandling; toys; bondage; blindfolds; impact play (including spanking, hitting, and paddles); wearing lingerie; cockwarming; come play; edging; guided masturbation; mirror sex; collars; roleplay (specifically, teacher/student and doctor/patient, which Mike wrote with bright red cheeks); and being filmed.

Mike looked over the papers. His deepest desires were right there, in pen, physical proof of all of his dirtiest thoughts. The thought of discussing it all with Richie had his body buzzing. But the thought of anyone else seeing it had him feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on him. He hastily got up and shoved it in his underwear drawer, where he kept his dildos and vibrators.

He stood there for a moment, fidgeting with nervous energy. And then he made himself sit down and go over Sunday’s campaign for the rest of the evening. 

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not all of those things are gonna be featured in this fic, I'll tag kinks as they come up, both in the tags and in the notes
> 
> also do yall want a short chapter 9 (3k) that will definitely be posted on october 2nd or a long chapter 9 (7-10k) that may or may not be ready by october 2nd? im awful at writing during the semester, sorry!
> 
> also mike eating richies come was not a safe sex practice, don't be like mike! you and your partner should both get tested before swapping fluids. i know ao3 isnt a sex ed class but i figured id put that out there lol


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Having fun? Mike asked with an amused grin.
> 
> Richie’s head popped up, as if Mike had pulled him out of a deep concentration. “Oh man, yes. I’m so fucking excited.” He was beaming in a way that Mike had to laugh at.
> 
> “Really?”
> 
> “Mikey, angel, this is just a codex of what you’re into. This is the Rosetta Stone of Mike Wheeler’s dick, it’s a holy text. If you were a car this would be your sexy fun times manual.”
> 
> “Wow, hot,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. But he couldn’t help but smile anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's kinks: p much most kinks that exist are discussed/mentioned lol but they engage in daddy kink, praise, the lightest degradation (like one or two words), and come eating

The next time he saw Richie was Monday night. Only two days had passed, but the wait was excruciating. The papers burned a hole in his dresser, mocking him as he tried to sleep, as he tried to work. Class was his only real escape from the anticipation; he had to focus. He had a job to do in class with the tangible results of his students’ understanding of physics. But any time he was alone, he was thinking about it. Richie texted him about something completely different, and he was thinking about it. Richie sent him a joke about it, and, well, it made his heart stop racing a little, but he was still very much thinking about it.

Finally,  _ finally _ Richie showed up at Mike’s door, a bag of burritos and a pack of glitter gel pens in hand. Mike laughed at the absurdity of the sight. Here he was, going nearly out of his mind, treating this like it was life or death, like his kinks were going to be posted on billboards, and all it took to calm him down was Richie and his glitter pens.

The burritos helped. It was hard to stress over the severity of a conversation while trying to make sure your burrito stayed intact. And Richie had already started drawing little hearts all over Mike’s pages in as many different colors as he could. “Having fun? Mike asked with an amused grin.

Richie’s head popped up, as if Mike had pulled him out of a deep concentration. “Oh man, yes. I’m so fucking excited.” He was beaming in a way that Mike had to laugh at.

“Really?”

“Mikey, angel, this is just a codex of what you’re into. This is the Rosetta Stone of Mike Wheeler’s dick, it’s a holy text. If you were a car this would be your sexy fun times manual.”

“Wow, hot,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. But he couldn’t help but smile anyway.

“You’re what makes it so sexy,” Richie said, pressing a lingering kiss to Mike’s lips. “I promise this is gonna be fun. Can’t promise I’ll be able to take my hands off you, though.”

Mike’s breath caught as Richie ran his hand over Mike’s thigh. He would never get over how big Richie’s hands were, how little they made Mike look. It made his head spin. “I don’t mind that,” Mike nearly choked.

An excited, devious little smirk pulled at the corners of Richie’s lips. Mike loved that look, loved the little parentheses that formed around Richie’s smiles. “Then let’s get into it.” There was a moment of tension, a moment in which Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away from Richie’s lips, but then Richie said, “And then I can get into you,” and it was over. Mike shoved him lightly, but he was smiling. Honestly, it was nice to have a casual atmosphere when going into this. It made him less nervous. “Are you ready?” Mike nodded. Richie gently took him by the chin and looked him in the eye. “How are you feeling?”

Mike took a deep breath. “Kind of nervous, but also excited. I have a lot of questions.” 

Richie nodded and smiled. “I will hopefully have answers. Alright! So, wanna start simple with positions? We can build up to the kinky part.”

“Okay,” Mike nodded.

“So, we know you like missionary,” Richie winked. Mike ducked his head and blushed. Richie looked over the paper Mike had filled out. “And you also like doggy style, and you wanna try spooning. God, that’s cute, you’re adorable.” Richie pecked Mike on the cheek, eliciting a surprised, bubbly giggle from him. “And you don’t like being on top?”

“I think I could like it if I was in your lap,” Mike said. “Like, if you like… helped me?” God, this was weird to say out loud. But Richie’s hand on Mike’s thigh helped, reassured him. 

Richie nodded. “So you’d like it if I grabbed you by your hips and bounced you up and down on my cock?” There was a glint in his eye, the hint of a smile on his lips. Mike swallowed thickly and nodded. “Such a cutie.” Richie kissed him. “You like the idea of being fucked on tables and couches and desks… Good to know.” He threw Mike a wink. “Any other positions you wanted to try?”

“Not really. They all seem kind of… complicated? I don’t think I’m athletic enough for a lot of them.”

Richie laughed. ‘That’s fair. Okay, so if that does it for positions, shall we segue into kinks?” Mike laughed at the phrasing and nodded. “Okay, so, I think we should start with your hard limits, so that’s all clear and squared away. Since they’re definitely off the table, we don’t really need to discuss them, I’m just gonna look them over so I know what they are. Then we’ll go into soft limits and talk about those. If we start with what turns you on we might get distracted, so best to save all that for last,” he said with a wink. 

His posture was loose as he turned to sift through Mike’s pages, and the pink glitter pen tucked behind his ear kept everything light. But Mike could also tell that he was taking this seriously, which he appreciated. It was probably called for, and it made Mike feel safe, knowing that Richie knew what he was doing. “Okay, so your soft limits. These are things you think you might wanna try?”

“Kind of?” Mike wasn’t sure. It was hard to put into words. “Some of them are just like, things I’m not necessarily opposed to. I’m not sure I want to actually do any of them? But like, I think I’d like some of them hypothetically? Like, I don’t think I’d ever want to actually have sex in front of other people, but I think the idea is really hot. Does that make sense?” His cheeks were bright red, but Richie was nodding along, and he wasn’t judging him at all.

“Of course that makes sense. So, how would it sound to you if maybe I talked to you about it? Like, we don’t do it, it’s just us, but I could say things to you about how I’d love to fuck you in front of other people, show them how pretty you are, that you’re mine, that I wanna show you off, stuff like that.”

Mike let out a squeak. His pants were already tight.

Richie laughed. “Aw, you like that, sweetheart? Okay, I’m definitely writing that down.”

Mike was feeling flustered. And shy. He liked it, he didn’t want to stop, but… Well, he didn’t know what he wanted. Fortunately, Richie hadn’t been kidding when he said he knew what he was doing, and he picked up on it easily. “Hey, you doing okay?” he asked, a hand on Mike’s shoulder. Mike nodded, but he didn’t say anything. “You feeling a little shy, baby?” Mike nodded again, relief flooding through him. “Wanna come sit in daddy’s lap, pretty? I can hold you while we go through this.”

Mike’s eyes widened, like a puppy’s. “Can I?”

Richie giggled and kissed him. “Of course. Here.” He took Mike’s legs and swung them over his own lap, then pulled Mike closer. He pressed a kiss to his hair. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” Mike said, smiling softly. 

“Okay, so more soft limits. How many of these do you actually want to try?”

“I don’t know,” Mike shrugged. “Do you actually like, like knives?”

“I really like knives, to be honest, but only the aspect of my sub feeling safe with me doing that to them.” Mike must’ve made a face, or looked away, because Richie said, “I won’t miss it if you’re not into it.”

“Okay… Yeah, I don’t think that’s my thing. Maybe in a few months we could try it? But I don’t know.”

Mike had a moment of panic then, realizing he’d just assumed they’d still be doing this in a few months. Was Richie planning that far ahead? Mike’s heart was starting to race, his mind running right along with it, but then Richie kissed his nose, stopping his anxieties in their tracks. “That’s just fine, angel,” Richie said.

Mike relaxed then, letting his mind wander back to his other questions. “Have you ever actually peed on someone?” he blurted out.

Richie laughed at the face Mike was making. “Yeah, I have. And I’ve had someone pee themself while they were sitting in my lap.”

“Do you… like doing that?”

Richie shrugged. “It’s more for the sub than for me. It’s not something I seek out, but I really like when my partner’s enjoying themself. So if my sub gets off on me making them pee themself, or me peeing on them, then it’s hot because they’re clearly into it. But judging by your face right now, that doesn’t seem like something you’re interested in trying.”

“There are definitely other things I’d like to try before that.”

Richie laughed again and kissed Mike’s cheek. “Okay, we’ll get to the things you’re into soon. I do have a question before that though.”

“Yeah?”

“You have age play listed in every category. Walk me through that, take me down that little avenue.”

Mike squirmed in Richie’s lap.

“Well, there are some things I really don’t like about it. Like, I don’t want you to ever try to give me a bedtime or whatever, and I definitely don’t want to wear diapers. But I really like the idea of you like… I don’t know.” Mike hid his burning face in Richie’s shoulder and was met immediately by Richie rubbing soothing circles over his back, holding him tight. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. Whenever you’re ready, okay? You wanna come back to that?”

Mike thought about it. Finally, he looked up at Richie. “I… I like when you pay for me. And when you cooked for me, and washed my hair, and dried me off.”

“So you like when I take care of you?” Richie said. His voice was soft, but thick. And when Mike looked up into his eyes, he saw that Richie’s pupils were huge as he looked down at Mike. Mike nodded, a small whimper sounding in the back of his throat. He made a small, happy noise when Richie kissed him, deep and passionate. “I would love to take care of you, sweetheart.” Mike moaned at that, melted into him again. His face was burning so bright, he had to hide in Richie’s chest. “Also, that’s not necessarily age play. I guess it kind of scratches the surface, but it doesn’t have to be an age thing if you don’t want it to be.”

Mike nodded, took his face out again. “Okay. But can you… Maybe could you like, tie my shoes for me every now and then? And maybe…”

Richie kissed his nose. “I would love that, angel. What else?”

“Maybe order for me at restaurants sometimes? I just… I want you to make decisions for me sometimes. Or maybe I could tell you what I want and you could just order it for me?”

Richie was looking at him so softly, Mike felt like he was actually glowing. “Of course, baby, anything you want. And again, this stuff isn’t really age play, this is pretty commonplace dominance stuff. Did you want to make it about age? Get you some coloring books or something?” Mike scrunched his nose up at that, which made Richie laugh. “Okay, so not into that. You just want someone to take your mind off things, to take care of you and handle all the thinkin. That’s what BDSM is all about, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“So it’s okay that it’s not all sexual stuff?”

“Of course. Dom/sub relationships are very much about emotions and all that. Doesn’t have to be sexual.”

Mike fidgeted. Richie grinned.

“It  _ can  _ be sexual, though. Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.”

“Different topic but I… I don’t want to try this now, probably not for a while, but… I think I like the idea of roleplaying as like, like a virgin?” He had to hide his face again as he went on. Fuck, even with RIchie being so open about pretty out-there stuff he’d done, Mike was still so embarrassed to be admitting this out loud. “Like, I want you to teach me how to touch myself, how to touch you.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned. It was then that Mike became aware that he wasn’t the only one with a boner. 

“You like that?” Mike asked, smiling hopefully, tentatively up at Richie.

“I  _ love  _ that.” Richie kissed Mike all over, making him giggle. “Okay, okay, I’m here, I’m present, we’re still going over your papers,” Richie said, shaking his curls out as if to physically clear his mind. “God damn,” he said, kissing Mike excitedly, “you’re a treasure. Okay, so. Let’s see what else you like, and what you’re looking to get out of this.”

Mike watched Richie read his answers. The long answer section had been the hardest for Mike. He was awful at putting what he wanted and what he was feeling into words, so a lot of it was just fragments.

“Okay, so it seems like you’re mainly into power plays, and you want someone to take care of you and turn your mind off. Do I have it right so far?” Mike nodded, clinging tighter to Richie. “Tell me how you want praise and degradation to work. At the same time, or separately?”

Mike pondered this. “I definitely like them at the same time. I think I’d like praise on its own, but I’d have to see with degradation. I don’t know, like I like the idea of being called like… well, the things I wrote down,” (after a long time agonizing over it, he’d managed to write down words like  _ slut  _ and  _ fucktoy  _ and even  _ cumdump _ ), “I guess I just don’t wanna feel like you’re mad at me, you know?”

“Of course. Okay, so even if you want me to go hard or be mean, you always want to know that I’m enjoying it, right? That I’m enjoying you?” Mike nodded. He felt himself getting choked up, but swallowed it down. Why was he getting emotional? Richie started stroking his hair, and he wasn’t sure if it made him more or less likely to cry. “So do you not want punishments?”

“I don’t know,” Mike shrugged. “I don’t think so. I mean, I want you to spank me, and… and hit me, but I don’t want you to be mad at me, or upset with me.”

Richie turned Mike’s face up toward him. Looking him in the eye, Richie said, “Mikey, baby, I will never lay a hand on you if I’m upset with you. If we’re doing something like this, I will always be enjoying it. And if I stop enjoying it, I’ll safeword. I would never do anything to make you upset or hurt, okay? This is all about making you feel good. There’s no universal BDSM rule saying you need punishments. If punishments won’t make you feel good, we don’t need them. Okay?”

“But what about you?”

“I’m not gonna be happy if you’re not happy. Seeing you feeling good is what makes me feel good.”

Mike could feel tears coming on again. Fuck. 

He didn’t end up crying, but Richie pulled him into his arms anyway. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Is that seriously the only thing you want? You don’t want anything else out of it?”

“I really like domming, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Mike pulled away just far enough to look at him. “Could you tell me why? I just feel so… I don’t know, selfish I guess, asking for all of this.”

Richie cupped Mike’s face in his hands, ran his thumbs over Mike’s cheeks. “Baby, I  _ love  _ domming. I love making other people feel good, it makes me feel good about myself. And seeing a sub in subspace? Seeing someone all blissed out after they’ve come? The way subs cuddle into you afterwards? It’s all so fucking hot, and cute and sweet, I can’t get enough of it.” Mike smiled at the dreamy look in Richie’s eyes. “And it’s really helped me with issues I’ve had with insecurities and communication and shit. Like, for the longest time I was so worried about being clingy or overbearing or whatever, but when I got into domming I realized that there are people out there who like people who run their mouths and want to pay constant attention to them, who will pay attention to  _ me _ . Also, I’m good at it, which I like. I like slipping into roles, and it’s extra rewarding when it makes someone else feel good. But mostly I just find it really hot. Like, fuck, have you seen subs? They are so fucking cute, and I’ve never been able to resist a cutie.” He ended this with a pinch to Mike’s cheek, which Mike swatted away, a small giggle on his lips.

“You really want this?” he asked, his voice betraying how much this meant to him. 

Richie kissed him, long and intentional. “I  _ really  _ want this. I really want  _ you _ .”

Mike was  _ not  _ going to cry god dammit. 

“Let’s get into these kinks of yours, yeah? Kink Think! It’s like  _ Shark Tank _ , you come onto the show and propose new kinks.” Mike gave him an amused but confused look. He still wasn’t used to how quickly Richie could shift the atmosphere of a room, and it had him reeling a bit. In a good way. “Okay, pocketing that idea, jotting it down and moving on.” He made a show of shaking out the papers. “So top of the list is daddy kink.” Richie smiled at that and kissed Mike’s cheek. “Aw, you’re so sweet. Wanna be daddy’s sweet little boy, baby?” Richie stroked Mike’s hair. “You want daddy to take care of you?” Mike got whiplash from how quickly Richie went from rambling to dropping his voice that low, making Mike shiver. His cock was suddenly very hard again, and his mouth was no longer working. He could feel how bright he was blushing as Richie grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Fuck, it’s so easy to make you speechless. You’re such a cutie.” Richie kissed his forehead. “Means we’re gonna have to work out a nonverbal safeword for you to use. Wanna go over that now, since we’re on the topic?” 

“O-okay,” Mike managed to sputter out.

“Okay, so typical safewords: yellow is ‘slow down,’ or ‘I need a break,’ and red is stop. But you can also get fun with it, like lampshade, or flamingo, or embezzlement.” 

Mike shook his head in that good humored but lost way he was starting to get used to. “I think yellow and red are good? I kind of… My brain doesn’t really work all the time when I’m, you know... so simple is good.”

“That’s what we like to hear!” Richie cheered. “God, I’m so excited to fuck your brains out.” Mike could not believe how casually Richie was able to say shit like that; it almost made him laugh. “Okay, so, color system is good. That’s good too, because I can ask for your color and you can tell me green if you’re doing okay. Got it?” Mike nodded, and Richie gave him a kiss. “Good boy. Such a quick learner” Mike flushed at that, already preening under the praise. Fuck, he loved being told he was doing a good job, he didn’t think there was a better feeling in the world. As Mike melted into him, Richie went on, “Now, nonverbal safewords. Maybe just knock on my shoulder three times? Or on a nearby surface?”

Mike hesitated, his mind still reeling from Richie talking about fucking him stupid. “Um, does it have to be three? I’m not sure I’ll be able to count.”

“Okay, how about any knocking at all? Or hitting my chest can count too, keep it simple.”

“Okay, yeah, that should work.”

Richie pulled him in close and kissed his hair. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart.” Mike melted in his arms.

“I kind of can’t believe this is happening,” Mike admitted, his voice soft.

Richie grinned. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Mike shook his head. “I don’t know… I guess it’s dumb.”

“Hey, it’s not dumb. Well, I mean I don’t know what you were gonna say, but even if it  _ is _ dumb, I like dumb. So shoot.”

“It’s just… I’ve been wanting something like this for so long, you know? It’s kind of unbelievable that it’s happening. And I know that’s stupid, like, there are more important things to life than BDSM, but it feels… important? Good. Really good.”

Richie got that serious look on his face again. “Mike, there’s nothing stupid about that. You want someone to take care of you, everyone needs that. Everyone deserves to have someone they can trust with what they want, with what makes them happy.” Mike raised his eyebrows. “What? Listen, I can have my Hallmark moments, okay! In fact, being a dom has seriously helped me vibe with my serious side. I used to shove him down so far I didn’t even know he existed. But now he’s here, and he will never let any sub—especially not one as cute as you—feel bad about wanting and needing what they want and need. See? BDSM builds character! Turns out you learn shit about yourself when you pay attention to what you want. Like magic.” He gave Mike a grin and waggled his fingers as he said this, making Mike giggle. “So you’re right. It  _ is  _ important.”

Mike glowed at that; okay, maybe being told he was right was even better than being told he was doing a good job. “Okay, okay, thank you. That… actually does help.” Then, after a moment of thought, he asked, “Do you have a safeword?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the p. “Just good ol’ yellow and red.”

“Not embezzlement?” Mike grinned.

“Too many syllables. Plus I can’t spell it so I can’t put it on my sheet.” 

Mike shook his head, still smiling. Then, getting more serious, he asked, “So how should I take care of you afterwards, if you need to use it?”

“Wow, you  _ are  _ a good student,” Richie beamed, giving Mike a quick kiss. “Just hold me, if I’ll let you. I sometimes don’t. But stay with me, and tell me that you’re not hurt—unless you are, obviously tell me if you’re hurt. And tell me I’m a good dom, that you feel safe with me—again, only as long as you actually do. But yeah, all that jazz and the kitchen sink.” 

“Okay, I can definitely do that.” Mike was taking studious mental note, as well as actually physically jotting it down in one of Richie’s glitter pens.

Donning a sports broadcaster voice, Richie said, “And back to you, wheelbarrow!” Mike scrunched up his nose, but he was still laughing. “Okay, we’ll workshop that nickname,” Richie grinned. “But seriously, let’s get back to it, I’m enjoying this. And I wanna see you blush again. Aha! There it is! God, you’re cute. Okay, let’s keep going.” Turning his attention back to the pages Mike had filled out, Richie grinned. “Ah, dirty talk and pet names, my specialities,” Richie winked, making Mike smile shyly. “God, you’re so sweet. I’m gonna have so much fun calling you all these things,  _ kitten _ .” Mike shivered as Richie kissed his jaw, just below his ear. Richie turned back to the papers, his lips moving as he read over the list. “Oh man, you wanna wear lingerie for me, baby?” Mike nodded, leaning into Richie as he nuzzled into Mike’s neck. Whispering in his ear, he asked, “You want me to buy you some?” 

Mike let out a little noise and gripped the fabric of his pants in his hands, pressing his legs together. God, he hadn’t even thought of that. He nodded eagerly, letting out a little, “Yes, please.”

“Fuck, angel, you’re a fucking dream.” They took a little detour as Richie kissed him, his hands all over Mike’s waist and hips, his tongue tracing over Mike’s own. But just as Mike was chasing more, Richie pulled away. “Okay, okay, we gotta finish this first,” he chuckled. 

Mike whined. “Later,” he huffed, pulling at Richie’s clothes. He was so hard, and Richie’s tongue felt so good against his own. But Richie grabbed him by the wrist, a calculating smirk on his face.

“Are you being bratty, princess?”

Mike whimpered. So Richie really  _ had  _ been paying attention to his list of preferred pet names. “No,” Mike said softly.

“Really?” Richie grinned. He pulled Mike closer to him, pulling a moan out of him. Mike tried to hide his face again, but Richie pulled him back by his hair. “I could’ve sworn I heard you whine just now.” Mike pouted and shook his head. Fuck, he was loving this. Richie hand ran down Mike’s side and grabbed at his ass. “You wanna be a good boy for daddy, don’t you?” Mike nodded, his eyes wide, attention completely on Richie. “Then sit still just a little longer so daddy can make sure he knows  _ just  _ how to take care of you. We’re almost done. Okay, sweetheart?” Mike nodded again. Richie let go of his hair and cupped his face, giving him a soft kiss. “Good boy.” He guided Mike’s head onto his shoulder, where he stayed comfortably as Richie picked the paper back up. His other hand was on Mike’s hip, holding him in his lap, his thumb rubbing circles into his skin. “Fuck, this all sounds so nice, baby.” Then he smiled. “Aw, you like student/teacher roleplay, baby?” Richie teased, kissing Mike on his burning cheek. “So sweet, honey, I knew you wanted to be a good little teacher’s pet for me.” Mike meant to huff at that, but it definitely sounded more like a moan. Richie, however, was still preoccupied with Mike’s list. “Ooh, collars, being filmed… yeah, daddy’s gonna have a lot of fun with you, baby.” Mike shivered.

“W-what are you most excited by?” Mike asked, his voice shaking from the effort of forming words when he was sitting in Richie’s lap like this. 

Richie brushed Mike’s hair out of his face. “In general? Buying you some pretty lingerie and dressing you like the perfect little doll you are.” Mike moaned and melted into him. As he sunk further onto Richie’s lap, he felt that Richie’s cock was hard where it was pressed against his ass. “But right now? All I want is for you to show me where your bedroom is so you can call me daddy while you whine all pretty for me and I tell you what a good, perfect boy you are.” 

Mike was already whining and squirming. Luckily, his apartment was just a one bedroom, so Richie lifted him and found it easily without having to do much searching. Mike clung to him the whole way. Richie kissed his neck slowly, his mouth open and wet and warm on Mike’s sensitive skin. It had Mike letting out soft little moans as Richie laid him gently down on the bed. “I like your room, baby,” Richie said, looking around a bit before turning all of his attention back to Mike. 

“I like you in my room,” he said with a small smile. 

Richie smiled right back at him and kissed him deeply, drawing it out. He went slow, gently sucking Mike’s lower lip between his teeth. He teased his tongue over Mike’s, leaving Mike with his mouth open, eager for more. But he only gave him a little more before moving his lips under Mike’s jaw. “I like you under me, baby boy.” Mike let out a whimper and clung to Richie, making him smile against Mike’s skin. “And I like all the pretty little noises you make for me when I do something you like.” Mike whined and squirmed again, pulling at Richie’s shirt. Richie chuckled. “Aw, come on now, baby. Use your words.”

The gentle, teasing command made him gasp and blush. “Daddy, please,” Mike whimpered. It felt weird to say out loud for the first time, but also amazing. And it made Richie lift himself up on his elbows to gaze down at Mike. He brushed his hair out of his face gently, caringly, but he was looking at Mike like he wanted to devour him. It was the perfect combination. 

“Please what, kitten?”

Mike whined again, tugging at Richie’s shirt. “Off,” he pouted, “please.” 

“That’s a good boy,” Richie grinned. He kissed Mike once more before tugging his shirt off. Mike sighed at the sight of Richie’s bare chest as he kneeled above him, his curls hanging all around his face as he looked down at Mike. “Your turn now, okay baby? Can you be a good boy and sit up for me?” Mike did as Richie asked and lifted his arms. “Aw, that’s so good, baby!” Richie praised him as he slipped Mike’s shirt off. He pressed a kiss to Mike’s chest as he laid him back down. “Such a good boy for daddy. And so, so pretty.” Mike flushed as Richie kissed all over his chest. He was absolutely glowing. He wanted to crawl into this feeling like it was a blanket, he wanted to hold Richie, to hold and hold and hold him. He wanted to always feel this warm. Richie pressed sweet kisses to Mike’s stomach as he undid Mike’s belt and pants. “Hips up, baby.” Mike did as he was told again, earning himself another, “Good boy,” from Richie as he slid his jeans and boxers off of him. Mike shivered under Richie’s gaze. “ _ Mike, _ ” Richie gasped, his voice sounding choked. Mike grinned but crossed his legs coyly.

“What?” he asked, his voice all innocent and sweet as he watched Richie run his hands over Mike’s hips.

“Fuck, baby… Did you shave?”

“I got a wax yesterday.”

Mike wanted to memorize the way Richie looked up at him, his mouth hanging open as his deep blue eyes went dark. “Do you get waxed often, princess?”

“Like, once a month,” Mike nodded. Mike was covering his mouth now, feeling shy.

“Fuck, I wanna pay for that,” Richie moaned, making Mike’s eyes go wide in interest. Then Richie was smirking. “Is that why your pubes were so soft?” Mike giggled at the change in tone and nodded. But Richie turned it back on a dime from silly to hot as he ran his hands all over Mike’s stomach and hips and thighs, then finally over his cock. Mike moaned and let his head fall back as Richie teased his balls lightly, rubbing his thumb against Mike’s perineum. “Fuck, baby, you’re so  _ soft _ .” With that, he was pressing Mike’s thighs up toward his chest and licking a stripe over Mike’s hole. “Mm, you taste so sweet, baby. Did you get yourself nice and clean for daddy?”

Mike let out a little, “Mhm,” both a confirmation and a moan.

“Aw, I know you did, baby. You know why?” Richie pressed a kiss to Mike’s hole. “Because you’re a perfect little toy, so good for daddy.” Mike whined again, squirming in Richie’s hands as he held Mike’s hips in place, tracing the pad of his middle finger over Mike’s hole, teasing him. “Because you want daddy to fuck you. Isn’t that right, princess?” Mike nodded and gave a small noise. He already felt like his soul was leaving his body, like he was in a dream. “Can you say it for daddy? Can you ask nicely?” Mike made a noise somewhere between an embarrassed whine and a moan and covered his face in his hands, his skin burning. God, Richie was so  _ good _ at this, it made Mike blush so hard. But he liked hiding his face like this, and what he liked more was the way Richie laughed and cooed over him while gently pulling his hands away. “Aw, angel, you don’t need to be shy with daddy.” Richie carefully guided Mike’s hand toward him and pressed his lips to the inside of Mike’s wrist, watching him the whole time. Mike let out a little breathy noise, his skin tingling where Richie’s lips had so lightly touched him. Richie’s grip was gentle but firm; Mike was so in awe of how well Richie knew how to touch him, how to take care of him. Richie leaned over him and nuzzled his nose against Mike’s. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm and sweet on Mike’s lips, making Mike gasp as he wrapped his hand around his cock, “tell daddy what you want.”

“ _ Daddy _ ,” Mike gasped as Richie stroked him. His back arching off the bed, he begged, “I want you to fuck me, daddy, please. Please, I want you inside so bad, please, please, please.” 

“Aw, see, baby?” Richie gave him a sweet kiss. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Such a sweet baby boy for me, asking so politely.” Mike flushed and gave Richie a dreamy smile; he felt like he was simultaneously floating and melting into the mattress. “Can you tell daddy where the lube and condoms are?”

“Top drawer,” Mike answered in a shaky voice, nodding toward his bedside table. 

Richie kissed him again. “Thank you, baby.” As he leaned over to get the lube, Mike ran his hands appreciatively over Richie’s chest and sides. Biting his lip, he ran his fingers through the dark trail of hair on Richie’s lower stomach that disappeared under the waistband of his boxers, just visible over the top of his jeans. He heard Richie chuckle above him. “You like that?” he smirked, both teasing and endeared. Mike looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded, still biting his lip, but smiling a bit now. Richie dropped the lube and condom to the bed, and undid his belt and his zipper, smirking down at Mike the whole time. Mike watched in rapt anticipation, his hands running absently over Richie’s thighs. Richie took his time dragging his pants and boxers down, but soon his cock was bouncing up against his stomach, long and heavy and so fucking tempting. Mike reached out for it, but Richie easily caught his wrist and pinned it above his head. Mike kept his other hand to himself. To keep Mike’s wrist pinned to the bed, Richie had to lean over Mike, and it brought his cock tantalizingly close to Mike’s mouth. Mike’s heart raced as Richie gripped his cock, stroked himself a bit, shifting just a bit closer to Mike until the tip was brushing against his lips, leaving them slick with precome. Mike opened his mouth, but then Richie was moving away, climbing off the bed. Pouting, Mike let out an indignant whine. Richie laughed as he shucked his jeans off. “I thought you wanted me inside you, pretty boy,” he teased. Mike whined; fuck, he really did want that. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Richie pressed a kiss to Mike’s hip as he climbed back on the bed, and Mike could feel him smiling against Mike’s skin. He settled between Mike’s legs and got the lube, covering his fingers in it. As he did so, Mike spread his legs further. “Aw, good boy,” Richie praised. He tossed the lube to the side and soothed his clean hand over Mike’s thigh as he rubbed the lube over Mike’s hole. “You ready, baby?” Mike nodded eagerly. 

And then Richie was sliding into him, slow and smooth. Mike let out a sigh; god it felt good, it felt  _ right _ . It made him feel vulnerable and safe and dirty and wanted. His mind swam as Richie worked him open, got lost in the glide of his finger as he pumped it in and out, then added another, all the while telling Mike how good he was doing. “You look so pretty fucking yourself on daddy’s fingers, princess.” Mike hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it, but sure enough he was rolling his hips, meeting Richie’s thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, faster, to touch him just like that. Richie pressed a third finger inside of him, stretching him out. “How does that feel, beautiful?” 

“It feels so good, daddy,” he moaned softly. It hurt the tiniest bit, but only for a moment before it melted into pleasure again. Richie knew just how to use his fingers.

“Yeah, baby? You like feeling daddy open you up so you can take my cock?” Mike moaned and nodded as Richie’s fingers pressed against him just right. God, his  _ cock _ . Mike wanted it so bad, he wanted Richie to fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to speak. “You feel so good, kitten, all warm and soft and smooth for me. So pink and shiny and wet, the most perfect, prettiest little toy. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock, gonna look so pretty, angel.” Mike clutched the sheets and whimpered, his hips rolling again. It seemed to slip off of Richie’s tongue so easily, all of the things he wanted to hear and had never before known how to ask for. And things he’d never even thought of, things Richie surprised him with. Those were the things that really made his cock ache.

“Daddy,” he gasped when Richie’s fingers brushed against his prostate. “Oh fuck, please, please.” He was grabbing for Richie now, anywhere he could reach him, desperate to touch him, to hold him.

“You ready, baby?” Richie asked, deliberately rubbing his fingers over Mike’s prostate again.

“ _ Yes _ , god, fuck yes,” Mike moaned.

Richie smirked down at him, curling his fingers again. “Manners, baby.”

“Please,” Mike cried, his voice high and strained. “Please, daddy, please fuck me, please. I’ll be so good, I promise, please.”

Richie smiled and kissed him. “Aw, that’s it, pretty, there’s daddy’s good boy,” he purred in a low voice. Mike moaned at the praise, at the pet name. Richie pulled his fingers out slowly, carefully, but Mike still whimpered when he was left empty. But Richie shushed him soothingly, pressed little kisses to the corner of Mike’s lips. And then Richie was sitting up and getting the condom. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but Mike couldn’t help but let out a little disappointed noise, gave a little pout. Richie laughed. “Aw, you don’t want daddy to use a condom?”

What little was left of Mike’s logic tried to fight the horny haze falling over his brain, but it just left him with a small, “Um…”

Luckily, Richie picked up on it and kissed his nose. “I think we should use one tonight, then we can get tested together tomorrow, okay, baby? We can make it a date, it’ll be fun. How’s that sound?”

Mike grinned and nodded and leaned up to kiss Richie. It was so nice that Richie knew what he was getting at, that he was taking care of the thinking part. Richie kissed him a few more times before sitting up again and rolling the condom onto his cock. Mike did have to admit, watching that was fun. Watching Richie lube himself up was even more fun. Briefly, he thought about how nice it would be to have Richie jerk himself off over Mike, but then Richie was rubbing the head of his cock over Mike’s hole, and all thoughts other than getting fucked disappeared from his mind.

It was still incredibly overwhelming, but Richie slid into Mike a lot easier this time. It helped that he knew what to expect. Still, Richie was really big, so Mike still needed some time to adjust once he bottomed out. God, it was like he could feel Richie in his fucking  _ throat _ . He felt that breathless, that full. Richie held his hand and pressed kisses all over his cheeks and neck and chest and shoulders as Mike caught his breath, let himself relax around Richie. It felt really nice, just having Richie on top of him, inside of him. Being able to run his hands over Richie’s back. Every now and then he would feel Richie’s cock twitch inside of him, and that made him let out little breathy moans, his toes curling. God, he wanted him so bad.

“Daddy,” he moaned softly. “‘M ready.”

Richie kissed him, a smirk on his lips. “Ready for what, princess?” He laughed at that frustrated whine Mike let out, at the way he hid his face in Richie’s shoulder.

“Want you to fuck me,” he mumbled into Richie’s skin. “Please.” 

“You want me to what?” Richie pulled his hips back until just the tip on his cock was nestled inside of Mike. “Sorry, angel, I didn’t catch that.”

He was too far away now for Mike to hide his face in his chest, so he pressed his knuckles to his own lips and looked up shyly at Richie. “I asked… Will you fuck me, please?”

Richie grinned. “Like this?” He slowly pressed in, letting Mike feel every inch of it.

Mike moaned and threw his head back. “Fuck, daddy,  _ yes _ .”

Richie’s hands were strong and firm on his hips as he lifted them up to get a good angle. And then he was pulling out again, pressing back in, setting a steadily increasing pace as he fucked his cock in and out of Mike. “God, fuck, you’re so pretty, baby, such a pretty little princess for daddy. You take my cock so fucking well.” Mike moaned at that, clenching down on Richie’s cock. Fuck, he knew it would feel good to be praised like this, but he never knew  _ how  _ good it would feel. He wanted more and more; it was like chasing an orgasm, but different (though that was also a big part of what he was feeling), like there was a warmth enveloping that made everything in him glow. 

“More,” Mike moaned. “Daddy, please, I need more. I need it faster, please, please fuck me harder.”

“Aw, you want daddy to fuck you harder?” Richie did just that, punching a gasping moan out of Mike. As he fucked Mike hard and fast, rocking Mike’s body with ease, he asked, “Is this what you want, baby? Does that feel good?” 

“Yes, daddy, yes,” Mike cried, again and again; Richie was fucking him so good, it was all he could say. Just a slurred string of  _ yesyesdaddyyes _ as pleasure overcame him, blurring all the edges, making everything soft and rushing and good. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist and grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him against him. Richie draped himself over Mike, still fucking into him, grinding in deep. Mike bit down on Richie’s shoulder to muffle his moans, which were getting louder and louder. He clung desperately to Richie; it felt so nice to be pressed against him like this, to be as close to him as he could be while Richie got so deep inside him, made him feel so fucking good. “It’s so good, daddy, it feels so  _ good _ .”

“Yeah, I know it does, sweetheart,” Richie moaned in his ear. He sat up a bit then and raked his eyes over Mike’s body, finally dropping them to where they were connected. Mike followed his gaze and moaned at the sight. “Fuck, look at you,” Richie marvelled, “fucking sucking my cock right in, aren’t you? So pretty, baby boy. You look so fucking good on daddy’s cock. All stretched out and blushing.” He ran one of his hands over Mike’s stomach and chest, then let his fingers graze over Mike’s cock. Mike cried out at the sudden contact and bucked his hips up into Richie’s hand, instinctively chasing the feeling. Richie’s own moans picked up as he stroked Mike’s cock. Richie’s moans were like music to Mike’s ears, and they were punctuated by the incredible, dirty sound of Richie’s cock fucking hard and fast into Mike. Richie’s hand was so big on him, his grip tightening at just the right times. 

“Oh my god, oh fuck,  _ daddy _ ,” Mike moaned. “Please daddy, yes, oh fuck, right there, fuckmefuckme _ fuckme _ .” His voice was high and desperate as he ran his mouth, his lips hanging open as he let out a constant string of desperate moans. Richie looked amazing like this, grinding his hips into Mike, his curls damp as he pushed them back and away from his face, his glasses slipping down his freckled nose. He looked so hungry for Mike, his eyes hooded and dilated like he was drunk on it.

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me like that,” Richie panted. “Shit, you’re fucking shaking,” he grinned, running his free hand over Mike’s trembling thighs. “Is it that good, baby? Fuck, you take it so well, princess, you’re so perfect.” 

“Daddy,” Mike whined. He was writhing under Richie now, his pleasure quickly becoming more and more intense as Richie stroked him. “Daddy, I’m gonna  _ come _ .” He clutched at the sheets beneath him, brought his legs up closer to himself. “Gonna come, daddy, fuck,  _ fuck, _ ” he cried, his mind going blank as his pleasure came over him, peaking, getting right to the point of tipping over the edge.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it, come for daddy,” Richie moaned, fucking Mike faster, “come for daddy like a good boy.”

Mike threw his head back and cried out as he came, waves of pleasure coursing through his body. Ropes of warm come covered his stomach and Richie’s hand, making a slick sound as Richie continued to stroke him, slowing down as Mike came down, catching his breath.

“Fuck, angel, you look so fucking perfect when you come,” Richie told him, his voice strained and low. Mike’s eyes fluttered open in time to see Richie’s brows draw together, his lips dropping open and he fucked frantically into Mike then slowed, grinding deep into Mike as he came. Mike smiled and watched in awe as Richie moaned over him, temporarily lost in his own pleasure.

He pulled out slowly and pulled off the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the wastebasket by Mike’s bed. Then he collapsed next to him, nuzzling into his hair, kissing him on the temple. Mike grinned and turned his head, capturing Richie’s lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

“Jesus, you’re a fucking dream,” Richie sighed with a smile. He swiped his fingers through the mess on Mike’s stomach and brought his wet fingers to Mike’s lips. Mike let out a small moan as Richie spread Mike’s come over his lips like a gloss, then slipped his fingers into his mouth. Mike sucked on them happily, everything still fuzzy and pleasant and warm. He smiled sweetly up at Richie as he swallowed, then stuck out his tongue for more. Pride swelled in his chest at the way Richie moaned. “You like that, baby?” he asked. He was grinning, but there was still some lingering surprise in his eyes, something Mike almost wanted to call awe as he fed Mike more of his own come.

“Wish it was yours,” he said, making Richie let out a moan and laugh.

“Fuck, angel, I’m taking your pretty little ass to get tested as soon as I fucking can, then you can have all the fucking come you want.” Mike blushed as he giggled. God, yeah, he was looking forward to that. “Wanna get properly cleaned up, baby?”

“In a few minutes,” Mike sighed, the fatigue settling into his body. He could feel the pleasant ache beginning to creep in, and he just wanted to snuggle for now. “I don’t think I’m physically capable of standing, and I just have a shower, no tub.”

Richie laughed and settled down, pulling Mike into him and kissing him all over. “Take all the time you need.”

Mike’s heart ached as he settled into Richie’s arms. Being with Richie like this felt like letting out a breath he’d been holding in for the longest time. It felt like breaking the surface of the water when you went deeper than you meant to, when you’re gasping down all the air you can. Mike couldn’t get enough of this. It was too good; he already didn’t know how he’d ever gone without it, which was kind of a scary thought. But Richie was stroking his hair, and telling him how gorgeous he was, how perfect of a sub he was, and in that moment all Mike could think about was how much he was looking forward to checking off all the boxes on the list they’d made together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know richie has already come on mikes face but shh its never too late for me to promote safe and responsible sex lmao


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike did as he was told, stepping into the panties that Richie held open for him. He watched, enraptured, as Richie dragged the panties up Mike’s legs and pulled them over the soft curve of his hips. They both moaned as Richie situated the thin pink fabric over Mike’s dick. He was still hard, and his bulge showed vividly through the panties. There was already a wet spot forming on the front of them. The fabric felt amazing against his cock, so soft and light and teasing. Mike felt amazing in them. He felt amazing under Richie’s gaze. He felt pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinks of the week: praise, degradation, lingerie, come play, daddy kink, light subspace

Mike lay in bed that night in absolute awe, still letting it all sink in. They both had work the next day, so Richie hadn’t stayed over, which Mike knew was for the best for both of them, but he’d still pouted about it, much to Richie’s amusement. “Stop making this harder, babydoll,” he’d said, which did nothing to make Mike want to let him leave. He was seeing him the next day, Richie was picking him up from work so they could get tested together, but he already missed him anyway. He wanted to know what it would feel like to wake up with Richie in his bed. He could still smell him faintly in his sheets; it made his head swim.

He was so  _ happy _ . He knew how badly he’d been wanting someone to dom him, but he hadn’t realized that the magnitude of the longing would reflect in the ecstasy he felt when he finally got it. He thought about what Richie said, about dom/sub stuff having emotional weight. He’d definitely been right, if the satisfied, thrilled thrumming in Mike’s chest was any indication.

It caught him off guard.  _ Richie  _ caught him off guard. He was such a strong presence, sweeping into Mike’s life like an unexpected gust of wind, the kind that takes your breath away at first. But it felt safe somehow. How could it feel so safe and so fragile at the same time? How could he trust someone he’d just met so quickly? Mike historically fell fast and hard, he could admit that. But never for someone like Richie. He really liked it, though. It was new, and new was so  _ good _ . New meant he finally found something he’d been looking for. Mike didn’t normally like new; he wasn’t good at new. But he never felt like he was fucking up with Richie—well, maybe not  _ never _ , but significantly less than he normally did when trying something new. There was something in Richie’s confidence, something that didn’t scream  _ entitled prick _ like many of the other guys Mike had come across in his life. Mike could tell that Richie’s confidence had been built. He could tell from the stories Richie told about his childhood, from the way he fiddled with his glasses when Mike complimented him, or looked at him for too long. From the flourish of performance he exuded every time he donned a new voice, clearly delighted to get a laugh out of Mike. He could tell from the way he gave that confidence to Mike, showering him in it, wrapping him up in it and making him feel the most amazing he’d ever felt. Richie’s confidence made Mike feel  _ safe. _ He felt like he could hand the wheel over to Richie. He didn’t have to be on edge, didn’t have to worry; Richie took care of him, let him turn his mind off in a way he hadn’t been able to in a long time, if ever.

It had him floating through his lab, somehow more focused from having been so blissfully unfocused the night before.

Getting tested was fairly painless, and Mike was overjoyed just from seeing Richie multiple times in a week instead of the weekend date schedule they’d had going on in the beginning. It felt special to see him on a weekday, to know Richie wanted to fit Mike into his schedule.

Their tests came back Thursday morning, both of them negative for everything. Not long after Mike and Richie swapped results, Mike got another text from Richie, asking for his clothing sizes. Mike’s face went bright pink.

**Mike:** _daddy please don’t give me a boner right now I’m in office hours_

He even added the wide eyed emoji because, hey, he was a sub, wasn’t he?

Mike should’ve expected Richie’s reply honestly, but he still had to bite his lip to silence the moan that threatened to slip.

**Richie:** _ aw poor baby, did daddy make you hard? _

**Richie:** _ dont worry princess daddy’s gonna take such good care of you tonight <3 just be good for daddy and don’t touch yourself until i see you, yeah? _

Mike was squirming for the rest of the hour. For the first time possibly ever, he was thrilled that no one came in to ask him any questions. He wasn’t sure he could look one of his students in the eye knowing he was pressing his legs together, trying desperately not to touch himself. 

The drive home helped, if only because driving made him too stressed to keep a boner. But then he was home and pacing around his apartment, unable to think about anything other than Richie coming over soon, counting down the minutes. Richie had told him they were going to dinner, that he was coming to pick Mike up. Specifically, he was coming up to Mike’s apartment to pick him up. 

Finally, after a rather pathetic attempt at getting work done, there was knocking on his door. He popped up from his spot on the couch and bounded over to the door, unashamed. His eyes were wide and eager as he opened the door to find Richie leaning against the doorframe, a glimmer in his already darkened eyes, a smirk on his beautiful lips. Mike’s eyes dropped and saw he was holding a shopping bag in his hand. “Hi, pretty,” Richie practically purred as Mike let him in, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Hi,” Mike grinned, already breathless. “How are you?”

Richie’s hands were all over him, his lips trailing over his neck. “Hmm, so happy to see you.” Mike clutched at Richie’s shirt as he pulled away slightly to look down at Mike and brush his hair out of his face. “I got you something.”

“Yeah?” Mike’s voice was soft, exposing clearly just how much he was absolutely melting at the idea of Richie casually buying things for him.

“Mhm,” Richie hummed. His hands slipped under Mike’s shirt, pulling it up. Mike lifted his arms without even having to be told, which made Richie smile at him, clearly pleased. “That’s a good boy,” he praised with a kiss to Mike’s nose, “knows just what daddy wants. So good and easy for me.” Mike was already glowing as Richie helped him out of his shoes and pants and then, finally, his boxers. Mike’s cock was hard, but even though Richie was kneeling right in front of Mike, he didn’t touch him. Instead, he dipped into the bag and pulled out a pair of silky, baby pink panties. Mike gasped lightly at the sight. Richie smirked up at him at the sound. “Step in, sweet pea.” Mike did as he was told, stepping into the panties that Richie held open for him. He watched, enraptured, as Richie dragged the panties up Mike’s legs and pulled them over the soft curve of his hips. They both moaned as Richie situated the thin pink fabric over Mike’s dick. He was still hard, and his bulge showed vividly through the panties. There was already a wet spot forming on the front of them. The fabric felt amazing against his cock, so soft and light and teasing. Mike felt amazing in them. He felt amazing under Richie’s gaze. He felt  _ pretty _ . The pink looked so nice against his soft, milky thighs, even he could admit. And Richie wouldn’t let him deny it even if he tried, not with the way he was burying his face in Mike’s thighs, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” Richie moaned. “Can’t believe you’re all for me.” Mike flushed. His cock twitched against the fabric, making him whine. Richie pressed a light kiss to Mike’s bulge through the fabric, making Mike gasp and buck his hips, but soon Richie was reaching into the bag again and standing back up. He was holding a matching bra in his hands, all soft and shiny and pink. Mike held out his arms and tracked every movement as Richie slipped the bra onto him. Turning when Richie told him, shivering at the feeling of Richie’s knuckles brushing against his back as he fastened the clasp, Mike could feel his mind going fuzzy. He had to lean against the wall when Richie started kissing his neck. Richie ran his hands over Mike’s sides, his hips. He teased his fingers over Mike’s nipples through the fabric.

“Oh fuck, daddy,” Mike moaned, sounding like he was close to crying from the teasing. He shifted forward in an attempt to grind his cock against the wall, desperate for any sort of touch there, but he only got a few seconds of blissful relief before Richie was turning him around.

He pulled a pair of pants out of the bag and held them out. “Step in, baby boy,” he grinned. Mike gave him a confused, dazed pout. He wanted Richie to touch him. Why was he trying to put Mike’s pants on? “Do you need daddy to help you?” Richie asked. His voice sounded innocent enough, but Mike didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes. Gently, Richie took one of Mike’s ankles in his hand and guided his foot into one of the legs of his pants. They were soft too as Richie pulled them up his legs, and they came up right around the narrowest part of his waist, where Richie buttoned and zipped them up. They were brown with a nice plaid pattern that Mike liked. He was still confused as to why he was wearing them, but Richie dressing him had his head too fuzzy to do anything but go with it. And so when Richie got out a cream colored, silky, short sleeved button down, Mike was already holding his arms out before Richie even told him to. “Aw, such a good boy, baby,” Richie cooed with a kiss to Mike’s cheek. He helped Mike into the shirt, did up all the buttons for him. “You like when daddy dresses you up, sweetheart? You like being daddy’s pretty little doll?” Mike let out a small whimper as he nodded, his movements slow, like he was moving through honey. “You’re so good, baby, so good at letting daddy take care of you.” He grazed his fingers over Mike’s collarbone, making Mike gasp; he felt so sensitive everywhere. Then Richie was tucking the shirt into Mike’s pants, and Mike had to steady himself on Richie’s shoulders as Richie’s hands just barely brushed against his cock. Richie was smiling at him, like he hadn’t meant to, but Mike could see the smirk behind the smile. It made him fall into Richie, made him bury his face in Richie’s shoulder. He clutched at Richie’s wrist, desperate to keep Richie’s hand inside his pants. He needed to feel him. He needed Richie to touch him. God, he’d been horny for hours. But Richie was in charge here, and as much as it frustrated his cock when Richie pulled his hand out of Mike’s pants, it made him feel like he was floating.

“Daddy,” he whined, shifting his hips. God, it felt so nice to say. It still felt new, and maybe it still felt a little strange in his mouth, like any previously forbidden fantasy will, but there was something inexplicably amazing about finally letting himself say something like that out loud. That one word held so much weight for him, and if the way Richie was looking at him was any indication, Richie understood the weight of it as well.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asked, his eyes trained intently on Mike.

“Need you… please, please touch me.” Mike wasn’t even sure he was making sense.

“Aw, baby, we haven’t even gotten dinner yet.” Mike blinked up at Richie, question marks probably floating all around his head. Dinner? “Come on, angel, let daddy help you with your shoes, yeah?” He was still a little lost, his brain lagging a bit behind, but he nodded. His eyes widened as Richie pulled out a pair of shiny new Oxfords. 

“For me?” he asked, astonished. He didn’t trust himself with full sentences, but he seemed to get the point across. Richie grinned from where he was kneeling in front of Mike and kissed his hip.

“It’s all for you, baby. Anything you want.”

Mike melted back against the wall as Richie slipped the shoes onto his feet and tied the laces for him. Then he stood and pressed a soft, deep kiss to Mike’s lips. Mike leaned into it, wrapped his arms around Richie. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being close to him just then, of not being pressed against him like this. He felt so cared for, like he was glowing. He was also still really horny, and a little foggy, and that combination made him incredibly clingy. He held tight to Richie and kissed along his neck. Richie’s skin was so soft and warm under Mike’s lips; he could’ve kissed him there for hours. But then Richie was tilting his chin up and pressing a kiss to Mike’s lips. 

“Ready to go?”

Mike had already forgotten about Richie mentioning dinner. He didn’t want dinner, he wanted to get fucked. To show Richie this, he tried to drop to his knees, but Richie just chuckled and held him upright. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t you wanna be good for daddy?” Mike gave a small, noncommittal whine. “I’ll get you anything you want,” he whispered in Mike’s ear, kissing his jaw. “And I’ll order for you, okay? Daddy will take such good care of you. Just be a good boy for a couple more hours and daddy will give you everything you need. Do you trust me?” Mike was still pouting a little, but he nodded. Richie smiled and kissed him. “Such a good boy. Let’s go, sweetheart.” He guided Mike down, his hand on the small of his back all the way down to the car. He even opened Mike’s door for him and helped him in, making sure he was buckled before walking around to the driver’s side. Mike missed his touch, but as soon as they were on the road Richie had his hand on Mike’s thigh, grounding him.

Being in public helped clear his mind, made him more cognizant. Still, he clung to Richie, holding his hand as they walked from the parking lot into the restaurant, and he pouted when he had to sit across from Richie instead of next to him, much to Richie’s amusement. “Aw, honey, daddy’s right here,” he assured him. There was laughter in his voice, but Mike could also see in his eyes that he meant it. He took Mike’s hand in his, a steadying presence. 

Ordering was a whole other ordeal. Mike was hyper aware of what he was wearing. He couldn’t get it off his mind that he was wearing an outfit Richie picked out for him, an outfit that Richie  _ bought  _ for him, that Richie physically helped him into less than an hour before. Mike had loved that; the act of Richie putting clothes on him, dressing him up to his liking, had put Mike in a headspace that he wasn’t sure he’d ever accessed before. Richie seemed to know it, too, because he kept a firm hold on Mike’s hand, kept checking in with him to see how he was doing. And mostly he was pretty normal, but every now and then he’d zone out, hypnotized by the pattern Richie’s thumb was rubbing into his skin. 

“Do you know what you want, sweetheart?” Richie’s voice pulled Mike out of another fog. Fuck, no, he didn’t.

“Um,” he said, eyes scanning over the menu somewhat absently. 

“Do you want daddy to pick for you?”

The suggestion made Mike shiver. But he hesitated. “I’m kind of a picky eater,” he admitted, his head ducked down slightly.

“Okay, how about I pick things until I say one that sounds good to you, then?”

Mike nodded. Yeah, that would be helpful. His eyes weren’t cooperating, didn’t want to focus. It would help to have things read to him. God, he couldn’t believe Richie knew that. He was so intuitive; it made Mike feel so good, like Richie was really paying attention to him. Like he cared. Mike listened to him list some options, watched his lips move, until eventually he said something Mike knew he would like, and Mike nodded.

“Good boy,” Richie grinned with a kiss to his hand. Mike beamed. It felt incredible to be praised for something as simple as deciding on what he wanted for dinner. He had the brief thought that in a different context, he’d tell himself it was a stupid thing to get worked up over, but he quickly brushed the thought aside and enjoyed the moment. There was no way he could deny the warm, fuzzy feeling that pulsed through him, made him want to climb across the table into Richie’s arms. The thought of Richie ordering for him was both hot and incredibly comforting. He liked knowing that he didn’t necessarily have to find words himself, that Richie would be there to help him through the thinking part, to take care of the talking part. Mike could definitely talk, and god knows his thoughts were always racing. However, both because of and in spite of these things, it was a breath of fresh air to not have to worry about thinking or talking. Mike could rest. While Mike fell hard and quick, he wasn’t always comfortable handing over control. So the fact that Richie made him feel so safe, so well taken care of… It was a lot. It was heavy, but heavy like a weighted blanket, not like a load to bear. 

However, as comforting a presence as Richie was, anxiety still crept over Mike. “The waitress won’t think it’s weird, right?” Mike blurted out, completely changing the course of the conversation. Richie squeezed his hand just slightly.

“She won’t think it’s weird. She’s probably too busy to notice or care.” Mike nodded along, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. It helped, though, when Richie grinned and went on to say, “If she does ask, we can tell her you need to preserve your voice for your yodeling tournament this weekend.” That got a giggle out of Mike, which helped him breathe. “We just gotta hope there’s not actually a yodeling tournament in town this weekend that she’s going to, ‘cause then we’ve screwed the pooch.” Mike shook his head and laughed even harder, his anxieties ebbing away. Richie’s face got serious then, and he tacked on, “Also, what you want isn’t weird. I really like it.” Mike flushed. “But yeah, if it helps, there’s no way she’ll know.” Richie squeezed Mike’s hand again. “Just tell me if you wanna order for yourself. I don’t wanna do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” 

Mike melted. Richie was right, and Mike trusted him. And he also really wanted this. And, somehow, he’d found someone who wanted to give him what he wanted. Richie  _ wanted  _ to take care of Mike, wanted to take control and do things for him, wanted to take that weight off of him. That was so special. How could Mike deny either of them that?

“Okay,” he nodded eventually. “Can, can you still order for me? I want you to. I really, really want you to.”

Richie beamed. “You’re sure?”

Mike nodded, a small smile on his face.

Richie kissed the back of Mike’s hand, making him smile even wider. “Of course I will, babydoll.” He dropped his voice and said, “Daddy’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” Mike nearly whispered, his voice small but so, so happy.

His heart was racing when the waitress came up to them, but Richie’s hand in his helped calm him down. And sure enough, the waitress didn’t bat an eye at Richie ordering for both of them. Even if she had, Mike wasn’t sure he would have noticed. As soon as Richie said, “Can we have…” Mike’s brain turned off for a moment.

As soon as the waitress walked away, Mike breathed out a small, quiet, “Thank you, daddy.” 

Richie smiled at him and kissed his hand again. “Anything for you, princess.”

The night went on with Richie doing most of the talking. Mike was still present, but words weren’t coming too easily. Fortunately, Richie was more than capable of filling the silence, of switching his questions from long answer to mostly yes or no, making it easier for Mike. It made Mike relax all the more.

The food was also really good, which was nice, but Mike was more preoccupied by other nice things. Like the feeling of soft fabric all over his body. His heart raced whenever he remembered what he was wearing, what no one else but he and Richie knew he was wearing. He thought about Richie picking it out for him. He thought about how Richie had touched him to put the clothes on, how Richie  _ hadn’t  _ touched him, how he wanted so badly for Richie to touch him, all over, right there and then—

“Mikey?”

Mike shook his head, coming suddenly back to earth. Richie was looking at him intently.

“Is this a good quiet or a bad quiet?” he asked.

“Good,” Mike answered definitively. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Richie grinned, seeming to relax a bit. “Whatcha thinking about up there?” The smirk on his face told Mike he knew pretty well what Mike was thinking.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” Mike mumbled, taking another forkful if only to have a distraction from how hot his cheeks were.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby? You can’t say it here?” His voice, already teasing, dropped even lower, softer, and he asked, “Are you thinking something dirty, angel?”

Mike couldn’t help the way his body reacted to that. He let out an involuntary whine and pressed his legs together, giving Richie a pout. He looked around as his cheeks burned, checking to make sure no one had heard him whine like that in a public place. When he was confident no one would hear, and turned back to Richie and gave a small, drawn out whine of, “Daddy.”

Richie was clearly enjoying himself, but he also seemed sympathetic. “Do you want daddy to ask for the check, sweet pea?”

“Yes, please,” Mike nodded.

“You’re sure you don’t want dessert?” Richie smirked. Mike gave him an indignant pout that made him chuckle a bit. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m kidding. I’ll get the check, then we’ll get you back to my place, yeah?” Mike brightened at that and nodded eagerly. “Fuck, you’re so cute.” Richie leaned in close and whispered, “Wish I could have you right here, baby boy.” Mike shivered and nearly leaned closer as Richie leaned away.

“That was mean,” he pouted. Richie laughed, clearly pleased with himself, and pressed a kiss to Mike’s hand.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you?”

Mike couldn’t argue with that.

It felt like forever, but eventually they finally,  _ finally _ made it to Richie’s car. Richie teased him the whole ride back to his apartment, rubbing his hand over the inside of Mike’s thigh. Every now and then he’d brush his hand over Mike’s dick through his pants and then pretend he hadn’t meant to, like he didn’t know why Mike was gasping and moaning. 

Mike clung to him for the entire elevator ride. Richie was being even worse now that they were alone, pressing dirty kisses all over Mike’s throat and jaw. Mike’s cock was aching by the time they got to Richie’s apartment. Richie had him pressed up against a wall as soon as the door was closed, knocking Mike’s breath out of him. Then Richie’s lips were on his, claiming them hungrily. Mike moaned into the kiss as Richie grabbed his hips and slid his hands up his waist, rucking up his shirt. “ _ Fuck _ , baby,” he groaned, “you’re so fucking pretty. All sweet and shy and whiny and needy for daddy. Aren’t you?” Mike whined and nodded, clutching at Richie’s shirt. Mike rolled his hips, desperate to feel some relief on his cock. Picking up on this, Richie slid one of his legs between Mike’s. Mike gratefully and eagerly took the opportunity to grind himself on Richie’s thigh as Richie licked into his mouth, his tongue teasing over Mike’s. “Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Richie panted as he broke away. “Such a pretty, needy little boy for daddy. Do you like humping daddy’s thigh like a little slut?”

Mike gasped and moaned, his head falling back against the wall as he clung to Richie, rutted his hips harder, faster. “Yes,” he breathed out, “fuck, feels so good, daddy.” He felt so hot, so desperate. He was grinding mindlessly on Richie, chasing his pleasure, even through his clothes. And god, the soft fabric felt so nice, it glided against his cock so smoothly as Richie kissed down his neck. “Fuck, will you please touch me, daddy?”

“Aw, just touch you?” Richie teased. He pulled his leg away and pressed himself flush against Mike. “I wanted to fuck you, sweetheart. Wanna watch my come drip out of that pretty hole of yours.” Mike let out a sound he wasn’t sure he’d ever made before as his knees gave out. Thankfully, Richie was there to hold him up, and he was laughing. “Yeah, you want that, baby boy? You want daddy to fuck you full of his come?”

“Fuck,  _ please, _ ” Mike mewled. “Please, please fuck me, daddy,  _ please _ .” Mike was grabbing at Richie’s clothes now, pressing his lips to any inch of Richie he could reach. 

Richie picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, then laid him out on the bed. Mike loved how easily Richie could move him. He loved that Richie could put him wherever he wanted him and how gentle he was when he did it. “Fuck, princess, you are so gorgeous,” Richie murmured, running his hands over Mike. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” Mike nodded eagerly. He sat up and kissed Richie, nuzzling into his hair as Richie undid the buttons on his shirt. Mike sighed when he finally felt Richie’s hands on his chest, on his sides. The shirt slid off easily, and Richie tossed it to the floor. His pants came off quicker, both of them getting impatient. It made Mike’s heart race to see that Richie seemed to want Mike as badly as Mike wanted him. He felt like he was on fire from the way Richie looked at him once he was just in the lingerie Richie had gotten for him. Instinctively, he curled in on himself, but Richie ran his hands over him, guiding his legs open. “Baby… you’re so fucking pretty…” His voice was thick and low, and it sent a thrill through Mike to know that he was the one doing that, that he had this effect on Richie. He gasped when Richie dipped his head down and kissed the insides of Mike’s thighs. It knocked his glasses askew, but he didn’t seem to care. Mike threaded his fingers through Richie’s curls, holding onto him as he buried his face in Mike’s thighs.

Sudden pleasure set his body alight. “Oh, fuck!” Mike cried; Richie had licked a stripe over his hole through the panties, making Mike’s cock twitch. It was sticking out of his panties now, hard and leaking over his stomach. Richie ran the tip of his tongue over Mike’s shaft, over the thin fabric, then just barely let it touch the head of Mike’s cock, making him buck his hips up, seeking more. “Daddy,” Mike whined.

“Aw, did that feel good, princess?” Richie cooed. He kissed Mike’s hip bone and rubbed his hand over his cock, making Mike let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a yelp. “You like when daddy touches you there?”

“Yes,” Mike whimpered, his voice already so much higher than normal. All of the fuzziness of the night was coming back down on him, like the softest, pinkest cloud. All he could possibly think about was Richie and how good he was making Mike feel. “God, daddy,  _ please _ .” He rolled his hips into Richie’s touch as Richie stroked him through his panties. It was so good, but he needed so much more. So when Richie pulled his hand away, Mike let out the most indignant whine he’d ever heard come from his own throat. “Daddy no, please, please, daddy, don’t stop,” he begged. He grabbed at Richie’s wrist, tried to guide his hand back to Mike’s cock, but Richie just laughed at him in a way that made his cock even harder. 

“Aw, but kitten, you’ve been so good tonight. Can’t you just wait a little longer?” He pressed a kiss to the inside of Mike’s wrist, making him shiver. “Don’t you wanna come with daddy’s cock buried deep inside you?” Mike moaned; yeah, he did. But he also wanted to come  _ right now _ . So he couldn’t help but touch himself when Richie turned to get the lube out of his nightstand. His eyes went dark when he turned to find Mike stroking himself. “Baby,” Richie chided with a shake of his head. Mike’s heart raced as Richie loomed over him. Then, suddenly, both of his wrists were in Richie’s grasp, and he pinned them easily above Mike’s head, keeping them there. Mike moaned at the feeling of Richie’s hand around both of his wrists. Mike struggled against Richie’s hold just to see what would happen, and he was thrilled to find out he couldn’t move at all. It must’ve shown on his face, in a blissed out grin, because Richie smirked and said, “Aw, is that why you were misbehaving, baby? Just wanted daddy to put you in your place?” Richie leaned down then, and Mike craned his head to the side, giving Richie easy access to his neck. He let out a low moan as Richie licked a lascivious stripe up the column of Mike’s throat. “You know, you can just ask daddy for what you want,” he said in a low voice. “You don’t have to act like such a desperate little slut—just use your manners like a good boy.” Mike whined and squirmed. “Though you do look really cute when you’re acting all slutty. So maybe I’ll give you what you want.” Fuck, Richie had no idea how much he was already giving Mike exactly what he wanted. No one had ever talked to Mike like that before; every time one of his previous partners even got close to it, they’d get shy about it, or feel bad. But Richie was confident in it, slipped into it so easily, and he knew just what to say to make Mike feel amazing. Richie struck the perfect balance of praise and degradation, and it was better than Mike ever could’ve dreamed. Richie took his hands away from Mike’s wrists, but Mike kept them there anyway. The smile that put on Richie’s face made Mike glow with pride. “There’s my good boy,” Richie said with a kiss to Mike’s lips. 

Mike beamed up at him. “Wanna be so good for you, daddy,” he said softly.

Richie stroked his face, his eyes somehow both soft and dark. He was looking at Mike like he adored him, like he was the most precious thing he’d ever seen and he couldn’t wait to ruin him. It was everything Mike had ever wanted. “Yeah? You gonna be a good boy while daddy opens you up?” 

Mike gasped at the feeling of Richie pulling his panties aside to rub the pad of his finger against Mike’s hole. “Mhm,” Mike nodded. He bent his legs and spread them wider, showing Richie just how good he was going to be for him. 

“God, you’re the cutest,” Richie said, kissing Mike once more before sitting up and running his hands over Mike’s thighs. “So cute and slutty and perfect.” Mike preened under the attention. His heart sank a little when Richie moved away from him and stood up, but it turned into a buzzing anticipation as Richie began to strip. Mike moaned as he watched, mesmerized as ever by the reveal of Richie’s body. Fuck, he was so beautiful, Mike didn’t think he’d ever get over it. The freckles on his chest, the dark pink of his nipples, the v-shape of his hips that led down to his cock, his thighs… It was all so gorgeous. Mike wanted to touch so badly, but he kept his hands where they were. He wanted Richie all over him as soon as possible, wanted to feel Richie’s cock filling him up. With the memory of Richie talking about coming inside of him, Mike was completely on board to behave himself, to do anything Richie said. God, he couldn’t fucking wait. He wanted Richie to absolutely wreck him.

Richie climbed back onto the bed and settled himself between Mike’s legs, pressing a few more kisses to Mike’s lips. Mike returned them happily, his skin humming at every point Richie touched him. He chased it when Richie sat back, momentarily forgetting about anything other than kissing him. But when he noticed Richie’s eyes drop to his panties his mind got back on track, and he sat back, eager to take whatever Richie was about to give him. Richie quickly covered his fingers in lube, then cursed softly as he pulled Mike’s panties aside, just enough to expose his hole. “So pretty, baby,” he marveled as he spread the lube around Mike’s hole. Mike gasped lightly, his hips instinctively rolling toward the feeling, chasing it. Richie pulled away for a moment, just to see Mike pout, but then he was sliding his finger into him, cutting his whines off with a surprised moan. “That’s it, angel. You’ve been such a good, patient boy for me all night. Gonna give you everything you want.”

“I want you, daddy,” Mike moaned. “Want you to fuck me so bad. Please, daddy,  _ please _ .” Mike knew he was being whiny, but he couldn’t help it; his mind was reeling from how badly he needed Richie’s cock inside of him. He wanted to be bouncing on it, wanted Richie to fuck him so hard he couldn’t think.

“I know, princess, but daddy has to open you up first,” Richie said. But he was already fucking Mike deep, and the thrusts of his fingers were quickly picking up speed. He kissed the inside of Mike’s knee. “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby. Just a little longer, okay?”

Mike bit his lip, but he nodded. Soon he couldn’t even think of complaining, as Richie leaned down and mouthed along Mike’s cock. It wasn’t much, just teasing kisses over the sensitive spot right under the head of Mike’s cock, but it was just the right amount to have Mike reeling. He barely even realized when Richie slipped a second finger in—it just felt right, like a puzzle piece sliding easily into place. Richie’s fingers pressed against Mike’s walls just right. Every so often, Richie would flick his tongue over Mike’s cock, making him gasp and squirm. 

“God, you’re cute,” Richie grinned, just as he curled his fingers against Mike’s prostate, making him cry out. “Yeah? Does that feel good, kitten?”

“Yes!” Mike cried, his voice breaking. “Yes, yes, fuck, daddy, fuck me, fuck me,  _ fuck _ .” He was writhing under Richie now, pleasure pulsing from deep inside him. Richie kept his fingers where they were, rubbing at the spot, turning Mike into a puddle as the pleasure overtook him, turned his body to jelly. “Oh my god, holy  _ fuck _ ,” he panted. His cock ached, but Richie’s mouth was gone, focusing now on Mike’s nipples. This all felt incredible, but it just fell short of being able to send Mike over the edge. It kept him at that spot right before the crash, his heart ever in his throat. It was dizzying. Then, just as he was really moaning for it, just when he thought maybe he could get there, Richie pulled away. Mike couldn’t help but cry out in frustration. Richie grinned and silenced him with a kiss.

“Thought you wanted daddy’s cock,” he smirked. “Do you not want that anymore? You just want my fingers and nothing else?”

“No!” Mike was quick to say, grabbing at Richie. “No, no, please, please, please, daddy, want you, want your cock so bad, I want your  _ come, _ daddy,  _ please _ .”

Richie grinned and kissed Mike again, biting down on his bottom lip, making him whimper. “Yeah? You wanna be a good cockslut for daddy? You want me to come all over your pretty little panties?” Mike whined and nodded.

“Yes, yes, daddy, please,” he begged.

The way Richie looked at Mike had him trembling in anticipation. “That’s what I thought, angel.” Then Richie was sitting up, out of Mike’s grasp, and grabbing his hips. Before Mike knew what was happening, he was on his stomach, his head spinning. He moaned as Richie pulled his hips up. Mike got with the program then and kept himself up on his hands and knees, legs spread. He wriggled his hips eagerly, making Richie chuckle behind him as he ran his hand over Mike’s ass. “So fucking pretty, baby. You like sticking your ass out for daddy? You like being daddy’s good little slut?” 

God,  _ yes _ , yes he did. There was something so hot about being on display like this. It made him feel pretty, hot, even, and that was so new. It was like a rush. He didn’t just like it, he fucking loved it. But he just nodded and gave a little, “Mhm.” 

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Mike could hear Richie spreading lube over his cock, and he had to look over his shoulder to watch. Sure enough, Richie’s one hand was gliding smoothly over his own cock while his other hand grabbed at Mike’s ass. The sight had Mike’s cock aching, had his head falling back between his shoulders as his mind went fuzzy again. 

Then Richie was pressing in. Mike loved this part, loved the first big stretch, feeling Richie open him up. He loved how slow Richie went; he was able to feel every inch of Richie filling him up, opening him up more and more, going deeper and deeper and then deeper again, always deeper than Mike expected. It took Mike’s breath away, and this position was even more intense than when Mike was on his back. Richie’s cock went even deeper, pressed against Mike’s walls in all new ways. It had him shaking already. 

“How’s that feel, angel?” Richie asked. He ran his hands over Mike’s hips and back as Mike adjusted.

“‘S a lot,” he slurred. “Fuck, you’re so  _ deep _ .”

Richie laughed a little behind him. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“ _ Good _ , fuck, so good, ‘s so good, daddy.” He was babbling already, but he couldn’t help it. Feeling Richie inside him like this, feeling how badly Richie wanted to move, it was hard to stay composed. Finally, he shifted forward a bit, then pressed back against Richie, fucking himself slowly on Richie’s cock, moaning as he did so.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” he heard Richie groan behind him. His grip tightened on Mike’s hips. “Fuck, look at you, kitten, fucking yourself back on daddy’s cock so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby, so perfect. You like the way daddy’s cock fills up your pretty hole, princess?”

“Yes,” Mike whined. Just these shallow thrusts he was managing, the sound of Richie’s moans, they had his cock throbbing, had him clenching around Richie. But he needed more, he needed so much more. “Daddy,  _ please _ , please fuck me, I need you to fuck me so bad, daddy, I need it,  _ please _ , please.” He was wriggling his hips now, pouting at Richie over his shoulder.

He watched as a smile grew on Richie’s face. “Oh, you  _ need  _ it?” he teased, drawing his hips back, leaving just the tip in.

Mike could’ve screamed. “God, yes! Daddy, yes, I need it, I need you so bad.”

But instead of fucking him, Richie brought his hand down on Mike’s ass. It wasn’t that hard, just enough to tingle a little, but it had Mike crying out, had his cock getting his panties all wet. “I didn’t hear a please just then, babydoll.” 

“Please!” Mike whined. “Please, please, please, fuck me, daddy, please,  _ please  _ fuck me, god, fuck, pl— _ oh _ —” 

Mike’s pleas were cut off as Richie slammed his hips inside of him. He draped himself over Mike’s back and nibbled playfully on Mike’s ear. “Good boy,” he purred, voice low and deep, making Mike shiver. Then he was up again, pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, burying himself deep inside Mike, over and over. 

God, this position was so different, it had Mike’s brain almost shutting off completely. He was so lost in how good it felt that he was barely even aware of the fact that he was well and truly screaming from the pleasure. Richie was hitting all the right spots, he was hitting spots Mike had never hit before, not with any toy or partner he’d ever had. His arms gave out quickly, leaving him face down and ass up as Richie supported his hips, grabbing him hard. He was rocking Mike’s hips as he thrust into him, making the impact even harder. All Mike could do was moan. His cock was so achingly hard. Richie was grabbing him so hard he thought it might bruise, and that just made him even harder.

“Fuck, baby, can’t even keep yourself up, can you?” Richie marveled. Mike just responded with more moans and whines. His body was completely lax—he could barely even grab at the sheets beneath him. “Aw, can’t talk, either? Guess all you can do is get fucked, huh? Is that all you can do right now, princess? Just take daddy’s cock like the perfect little toy you are?”

Mike managed out a strained, “Yes,” or at least he was pretty sure it came across. Then it was all he could say, just a string of  _ yesyesyes _ , screamed in time with Richie’s thrusts.

“God, you’re fucking screaming for it,” Richie moaned, sounding like he was actually in awe of Mike, of his effect on him. “Does it feel that good, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,  _ yes _ ,” Mike moaned. He felt like he was floating out of his body; everything was so warm, so soft. Richie was the only thing keeping him grounded. Richie’s hands on him, Richie’s voice, so rich and smooth, like honey. 

“God, it feels so fucking good for me, sweetheart. You’re such a dream, so fucking perfect.” Mike could feel Richie’s hands running over him, smooth, like running your fingers over the surface of a lake. He traced Mike’s shoulder blades, over the thin straps of his bralette, down his spine, until finally he settled on his ass again, grabbing at him, smacking it again lightly. “Such a sweet little ass, baby, and your  _ thighs _ , fuck...prettiest little doll I’ve ever seen.” 

Richie’s praise had Mike glowing. He was vaguely aware that he was shaking everywhere, that his cock was begging to be touched. But he wanted Richie to make him come. He wanted to be a good boy. It would feel so much better coming when Richie wanted him to, when Richie said he could. Richie would take care of him. Richie would make him feel so, so good. 

Mike was pulled suddenly from his dreamy state when Richie’s cock brushed against his prostate, sending electricity through him, making him scream and clench down on Richie’s cock. “Oh, fuck, baby,” Richie groaned. Richie grabbed Mike harder, kept fucking him just like that, brushing up against Mike’s prostate every now and then. It kept Mike right on the edge, weakly trying to rock himself back onto Richie’s cock for more. It just made him even more desperate to come when Richie let out a breathy laugh. “Aw, you like that, baby? You like the way daddy fucks you?” A thousand answers ran through Mike’s mind, mostly incoherent strings of  _ yes daddy please fuck me harder just like that right there fuck me until I come please daddy please let me come please fuck me _ . But all he managed to say aloud in his dick drunk state was a slurred  _ yes _ whimpered amidst his moans. “Yeah, I can tell,” Richie moaned, his voice smug and cocky in a way that Mike would never get tired of. “So fucking tight for me, sweetheart, so tight and soft and warm. Such a perfect little boy. Fuck, you’re gonna make daddy come, babydoll.” Mike moaned especially loudly at that, his voice high and desperate as he let out a string of barely coherent pleas. “God, you’re cute when you’re begging for my come.” Mike’s body responded eagerly to the praise, to the smile in Richie’s voice. “You want that? You want daddy to come inside your pretty little hole?” Mike was completely reduced to a moaning mess at this point. All he knew was the intense pleasure that consumed him, and Richie’s words had that pleasure building and building, but never peaking. Richie brushed Mike’s hair back from his face, leaving sparks over Mike’s skin in his wake. “Fuck, such a pretty little comeslut for daddy. Gonna fucking fill you up, princess. Daddy’s gonna fuck you full of his come and then I’m gonna watch it drip out of you, gonna ruin these pretty little panties.” Mike moaned at the image of himself, wearing lingerie Richie bought him, then soiling it as Richie covered him in come. He was nearly crying from how bad he wanted it, begging incoherently and clenching down on Richie’s cock. 

He looked over his shoulder, not wanting to miss a second of Richie coming in him. His eyes were dark and unfocused, roving over Mike, and his curls were sweaty, his face flushed and glasses slipping down his nose as his lips hung open. It was so fucking hot to see Richie drinking him in like that, and it felt amazing to know that he was the reason Richie was coming undone. Meeting Richie’s gaze, Mike whined, “Please come in me, daddy,” and pleasure washed over him when Richie’s brow furrowed, his eyes widening as a broken sound left his lips.

“Oh  _ fuck _ , baby, I’m coming.” Mike didn’t think he would ever hear anything more beautiful than the sound of Richie moaning those words. And the feeling, god the  _ feeling _ of Richie unloading in him, of Richie pumping his warm come into Mike—it was fucking heavenly. Mike nearly felt like he could come from it, but he still stayed on that dizzying brink, grinding his hips back against Richie as he came down.

Mike whined when Richie pulled out, dazed and desperate and almost frantic for a moment, but Richie kissed his warm skin and ran one of his hands over Mike’s back while keeping his hips up with the other, and that helped him calm down a bit. But he was still desperate to come, his body feeling like a live wire. Soon though, he was distracted for a moment, his needs satisfied by the feeling of Richie’s come dripping out of his ass, warm and wet and so fucking  _ dirty _ , it made Mike sigh and moan happily. What was even better was Richie’s reaction. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, putting Mike’s panties back in place, “you’re the prettiest fuckin’ thing in the world.” Mike moaned as he felt the panties become damp as more come leaked out and ran down his thighs. “You look so fucking pretty all covered in daddy’s come, sweetheart, such a perfect little angel.” Richie carefully turned Mike over as he said this, settling him on his back and giving him a tender kiss. Mike went easily, his body completely pliant in Richie’s hands. “Let’s get you even messier, yeah?” Richie smirked as he dipped his hand into Mike’s panties and finally wrapped his hand around Mike’s cock. Mike let out a pitiful moan as Richie touched him. As soon as Richie started stroking him, he knew he wasn’t gonna last long. 

“Daddy,” he moaned, his words thick and slurred as he writhed under Richie’s touch, “gonna  _ come _ .” His voice was high and strained as his pleasure built, overcoming his entire body, fogging his mind.

“Yeah? You gonna come all over your pretty little bra, babydoll? Gonna get yourself all pretty and messy for daddy?” Mike whined and nodded, ready to agree with anything if Richie would just keep touching him just like that, right there. “Such a good boy, sweetheart. Come on, come for daddy.” And god, he did. So hard he was pretty sure he blacked out for a second. It was everything he’d been needing for so long, the sweetest, most intense release he’d ever felt. His back arched off the bed, his entire body trembling. The feeling of painting himself in his own warm come just added to the pleasure. 

He must’ve actually blacked out, or passed out, because when Richie’s voice reached him it sounded like he was underwater. He could tell that Richie was cooing over him, but he couldn’t make out any of the words. Eventually, he became aware of Richie’s hands on him, his lips. He was stroking Mike’s hair and kissing his forehead. He was also dragging his fingers lightly through the mess Mike had made of himself. 

Mike blinked his eyes open slowly and gave Richie a far away smile. “Hi there, sweet pea,” Richie grinned softly.

“Hi, daddy.” Mike’s voice was still higher than normal, and he sounded absolutely wrecked. Looking down his body, he found, to his immense satisfaction, that he looked like a mess as well. His bralette had come splashed over it, the end of a trail that covered his stomach and ribs. It looked  _ pretty _ . The sight made Mike smile, a warm feeling spreading through his body.

“You look so cute all messy and covered in come,” Richie sighed, a smile on his face as he drank Mike in. He swiped some of Mike’s come onto his fingers, and it shined on his fingertips, milky and filthy in a way that had Mike’s spent cock twitching for more already. But Mike was still so out of it, and he didn’t think moving any part of his body was in the cards, at least for the next ten minutes or so. Richie kissed him again, slow and soft, and Mike melted into it. “You did so good for me, sweetheart,” Richie praised him in a soft, low voice. “Such a sweet, perfect angel for daddy. You make me feel so good.”

Mike felt like he was floating. “You make me feel so good,” he said, smiling up at Richie. Beginning to come back to earth, he continued, “Seriously, I think my soul left my body.” He grinned as Richie laughed and kissed him again. 

“Good. That means I did my job. Which reminds me, do you want ice cream? Then we can get you cleaned up?”

“I don’t think I can move right now to be honest.” 

“I can bring it to you.” Richie kissed Mike’s nose. “Will you be okay on your own?”

The question nearly made Mike cry, but in a good way. “I’ll be okay, but… Will you kiss me more first?”

Richie beamed. “Anything you wish,” he said, donning a British butler accent that made Mike scrunch his face up and giggle as Richie kissed him. Mike sighed, more content than he’d ever felt in his life. 

And then Richie was dashing off and returning with a pint of ice cream and two spoons in under thirty seconds. He helped Mike sit up and let him rest most of his weight against him. “Do you want daddy to feed you, baby?” Mike shivered at the question, his head suddenly feeling light again.

“Would you?” he asked, timid.

But Richie was smiling so wide. “Of course, angel.” And so Mike opened his mouth, and Richie carefully brought the spoon to his lips. There was something so intimate about it. Something about it made Mike feel so  _ safe _ , so cared for. He never would’ve imagined actually asking for something like this even a month ago, but it felt so right with Richie. Richie was clearly enjoying it, too, which blew Mike’s mind.

Once Mike’s blood sugar was up, Richie drew them a warm bath and helped Mike into it, getting all the come off and massaging away any aches. Mike knew the ache inside of him would linger, but that knowledge just made him smile. He liked the reminder. It made him feel like he was Richie’s, and that was an amazing feeling. 

What was also an amazing feeling was washing Richie’s hair for him; Mike didn’t think he would ever get tired of running his hands through RIchie’s curls, or the way Richie’s eyes fell shut as he relaxed against Mike. As nice as it was to feel taken care of, taking care of other people was one of Mike’s favorite things. He loved knowing that he could make Richie feel that good. The content little smile that pulled at Richie’s lips as Mike worked the shampoo and conditioner into his hair lit Mike’s heart up like a Christmas tree.

They lay in Richie’s bed that night, clean and pleasantly exhausted. Mike was curled up into Richie’s side, enjoying his warmth and the smell of his soap that lingered on both of them as Richie lightly stroked Mike’s back. “Hey, baby?” Richie said.

Mike gave a small, “Hm,” his eyes still closed.

“Okay, so I know exhibitionism is one of your soft limits… How do you feel about public sex? Like, you have to stay quiet for me so no one finds out, that sort of thing?”

Mike was much more awake now. He looked up at Richie, intrigued but wary. “I don’t know… I like the idea, but I would feel awful if someone who didn’t want to see that noticed.” With a coy smile he said, “I’m not the best at keeping quiet.”

“Oh, I know, it’s amazing,” Richie said, with an overly dreamy sigh for emphasis. Mike giggled and blushed. “I could always gag you.”

Mike flushed deeply at that. He was listening. “Did you have something specific in mind?” He was smiling as he asked; Richie clearly had something already worked out in his mind, and Mike wanted in on it.

“Honestly, I can’t get the idea of fucking you in a dressing room out of my head.” Mike’s breath caught. The way Richie was looking at him, the way his voice dropped… It had Mike’s head spinning. “Wanna take you shopping, buy you whatever you want. Then you can try things on for me and I’ll show you just how much I love how they look on you.” Mike must’ve looked as overwhelmed and conflicted as he felt, because Richie laughed, effectively breaking the tension. “Okay, let’s table that one for now.” Mike relaxed. Yeah, time to think on it would be good. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?” Richie kissed his hair and pulled him in again. “You did so good for me today, you should rest.”

“I feel like I just sort of laid there and got fucked,” he grinned, but he was snuggling into Richie and closing his eyes anyway.

“Yeah, but you did a great job!” Mike giggled. “And besides, if I fucked you right you should be exhausted.”

“You did,” Mike said softly, kissing Richie’s pec, “and I am.”

Richie held him tight and kissed him softly. “You deserve it.”

And god, that was so nice to hear.  _ You deserve it. You did so good for me.  _ The words lulled Mike to sleep with a smile on his face. The praise made him feel so warm and fuzzy, so safe and cared for. Falling asleep in Richie’s arms that night was the easiest thing Mike had ever done.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It nagged at him as he was trying and failing to fall asleep, texting Richie as he lay in bed. He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to worry. He wanted to be with Richie, in his arms. He wanted Richie to tell him what to do and to tell him that he was doing it well. He wanted to be back in that floaty space he’d reached, not a thought in his mind but the way Richie was talking to him and making him feel. He wanted to feel that mindless again. That safe and cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off im so sorry i havent responded to last weeks comments yet, school and work have my brain so fried lol but theyre all v sweet and i really appreciate them, so thank you sm!!
> 
> this chapter's kinks: degradation, praise, light virgin kink? slash dumb kink? idk mike is all like "idk how daddy help me" so whatever youd call that lol. also daddy kink as always
> 
> warnings: insecurity, angst, subdrop

Waking up with Richie was amazing. Eating breakfast with Richie was amazing. Going home after spending the night, however, was a lot less amazing.

Mike was antsy. It had only been a few weeks, but Richie had become such a prominent figure in his life. The majority of his thoughts circled around Richie: daydreaming about him, texting him, masturbating about him, wondering how his day was going. And, like any situation in Mike’s life, it made his mind run wild with worry. Sometimes he found himself wondering in paralyzing fear when this would end, because surely it had to end, right? But how could something so perfect end? Was there anything out there that was actually as perfect as what he found with Richie? Not in Mike’s experience, which was probably why he was freaking out about this so much. He didn’t even know how to define what it was he had with Richie. Were they dating? Was Richie his boyfriend? Was he just his dom? Did it need to be defined?

Well, he certainly couldn’t tell El and Max about it without a definition, right? But what if defining it ruined it? It was perfect on its own, just as it was. Mike didn’t want to think any harder about it than that. He was the happiest he’d ever been, so he was going to follow that. The thought of telling El and Max made him feel anxious, so he figured he shouldn’t. Simple as that, no need to overthink why. This was probably how things normally went, right? He had no idea. But he hated having no idea, so it was easier to tell himself it was all under his control, that he knew what he was doing.

Still, it nagged at him, the guilt over not telling El or Max—or anyone except Will, really, and he hadn’t even mentioned anything to him after the second time. But it was hard to feel anything but overwhelming joy when Richie texted him, or called him on a whim because he had more to say than could fit in a text message and his mind was moving ten times faster than his fingers could type. Moments like that reminded him that this was theirs, and that was good. God, it was so good.

So good that El and Max started to pick up on it.

“Someone’s chipper this evening,” Max commented with a teasing smile as Mike let her and El into his apartment that Friday night. The comment shouldn’t have filled Mike with panic, but that’s sort of who he was generally as a person. 

“Just excited to grade these tests,” he said, fumbling slightly over his words as he closed the door behind him.

Luckily, because of who he was generally as a person, they bought it. “Only you would get excited about that,” El teased with a fond smile as she plopped down into one corner of the couch with her laptop. Max spread out on the floor, covering it with her laptop and papers and files. The coffee table was already half covered in Mike’s things, namely his laptop, his students’ tests, and the answer key. Max arranged the Chinese food she’d brought on the remaining free space, and the three of them started divvying up the food.

“It’s the first test of the semester!” Mike said. “I wanna know if I’m getting through to them.” 

“I’m sure they did great,” El said with a smile. “Well, most of them anyway. You’re a great professor.”

“I could never get  _ you _ to be interested in physics,” he pointed out with a smile.

“I said professor, not miracle worker.” 

He laughed at that and turned back to his work and his food. He loved nights like this; they called them work dates. Tonight Mike was grading tests, El was working on sending her movie to more film festivals, and Max was balancing the books of the surf and skate shop she owned. It was mostly quiet to start, but every time without fail, either Mike or Max had to break the silence, unable to keep some random thought to themselves. For now, Mike enjoyed the quiet. He threw himself into grading, really following along all of his students’ answers rather than just checking off what was right or wrong. He wanted to know how they were thinking about the material—not only did it help him see what aspects of his lectures were making sense to them and which weren’t, but sometimes his students inspired him, showed him a new way of approaching a problem he’d designed. He loved moments like that, and it was why the first tests of the semester were always the best to grade. He was introduced to so many new minds, so many new thought processes. He got absolutely swept away in it.

Well, almost absolutely. It was kind of hard to get his mind off Richie. While the quiet was normally comfortable, the tapping of computer keys and scratching of pens a heartwarming reminder of how comfortably Max and El fit into his life, into his apartment, tonight it was nearly impossible not to think about what was going unsaid. He’d say it eventually, and they’d understand why he hadn’t told them sooner. He thought this, however, while refusing to acknowledge that he himself didn’t even understand in that moment why he couldn’t tell them, why he insisted on keeping this to himself. He settled on the easy excuse that he wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions, for their squealing and teasing, not just yet. 

But he could still enjoy listening to their updates. He could settle into the love he felt for them when El excitedly showed them some of the designs that had been drawn up by a friend for her premiere dress, when Max’s eyes lit up as she told them about what she and Lucas had planned for when she was going to visit him for Valentine’s Day, which was quickly approaching.

Fuck, Valentine’s Day. Mike did not wanna linger on that topic, so he switched it abruptly, his heart racing. If Max and El noticed, all they gave him were some understanding looks before happily jumping to the next topic.

It made Mike feel relieved in the moment, but after they left, after the work was done and the food was cleaned up, he felt a weird twisting sensation in his chest. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? Was it so bad to want to wait until he was ready to tell him? 

It nagged at him as he was trying and failing to fall asleep, texting Richie as he lay in bed. He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to worry. He wanted to be with Richie, in his arms. He wanted Richie to tell him what to do and to tell him that he was doing it well. He wanted to be back in that floaty space he’d reached, not a thought in his mind but the way Richie was talking to him and making him feel. He wanted to feel that mindless again. That safe and cared for. He’d felt so light afterwards, and Richie had held him as he became heavier and heavier, pulled toward sleep.

**Mike:** _ can you get me out of my head soon? please?  _ 🥺

It was new, asking for what he wanted. But it had been going well so far; he felt like he had finally found the right person to ask. 

Richie texted back almost immediately.

**Richie:** _ everything ok? do u need me to come over? _

That made Mike’s heart melt, but it also had it racing. This wasn’t something he was ready to put into words, or even coherent thoughts. It was still just a feeling; he didn’t know how to talk about it.

**Mike:** _ I’m okay, just stressed _

**Richie:** _ well in that case i would love nothing more than to fuck you absolutely stupid  _ 👅

**Richie:** _ wanna get more intense? or do u want something softer? _

**Richie:** _ either way ill take care of you _

Mike felt that weirdly happy urge to cry as he texted Richie back.

**Mike:** _ intense sounds fun _

**Richie:** _ yea? u want daddy to get a little mean with you sweetheart? _

Mike shivered; he was hard now, his heart already racing for a whole new reason than before. God, he was so grateful for this. He was so grateful for Richie. He was grateful for this little outlet, that he didn’t have to be embarrassed to admit what he wanted, what he needed.

**Mike:** _ Yes please, daddy _

**Richie:** _ such a good boy using your manners _

**Richie:** _ u give me all kinds of ideas baby boy _

**Richie:** _ gonna have so much fun with you tomorrow  _ 😘

Mike couldn’t wait.

Richie picked him up the next night, a routine Mike was more than happy to become accustomed to. Richie kissed him as soon as he got in, deep and slow, smiling just slightly into it. It made Mike’s body flood with warmth. Being with Richie felt like releasing a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. 

“How are you feeling, pretty boy?” Richie’s voice was lower than his casual tone; he was already using the voice he used on Mike during scenes, and sure enough, like it had some magical quality, it had Mike’s brain melting like cotton candy.

“Better now,” he said. His own voice was changed as well, but he suspected it was much less intentional on his part than on Richie’s.

Richie kept his hand on Mike’s thigh the entire drive, which only kept Mike edging into that lighter headspace, gradually, just dipping his toes in. Then Richie kept his hand on Mike’s waist as they made their way up to his apartment, a gesture that made Mike glow and sink a little bit deeper into that comfortable, soft space. Mike loved these little touches; they made him feel small, easy to handle. Mike was all too aware of how tall and gangly he was, and it had never felt like a good thing. He was always so much taller than those around him, he felt like he was constantly about to trip over people or step on them or something. But Richie didn’t make him feel like that; Richie made Mike feel like  _ he  _ was the delicate one, the one who should be looked after. And god, did Mike want someone to look after him. 

Richie had Mike pressed up against the door as soon as it shut, kissing him hard. Mike clung to Richie’s shirt as Richie’s hands roamed freely over Mike’s body. Richie slid one hand into his hair and pulled slightly, pulling a surprised moan from Mike’s throat. While Mike was still processing that, Richie licked a lewd strip up Mike’s neck before biting down on a sensitive spot, making him cry out again. Richie kissed him once more before grabbing him by the chin. In contrast to the roughness, Richie lightly nuzzled his nose against Mike’s. “Safewords, baby?”

It took a moment for Mike’s brain to accept that he had to speak words, that he wasn’t getting anything else until he did, but he was cognizant enough in a moment to answer, “Green is keep going, yellow is slow down, red is stop.” 

“And you say you’re a bad driver,” Richie grinned. Mike gave a small giggle, clearly already a little out of it. “Can you show me what you do when you want me to stop but you can’t talk?” Mike nodded, then knocked on Richie’s chest with the butt of his palm a few times. Richie rewarded him with a kiss. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart. So good for daddy.” Mike melted as Richie planted kisses over him and dragged him toward the couch. Just as Mike was settling into the sweetness, Richie surprised him with a hand around his throat. It made Mike’s breath catch—it also made all of the blood in his brain rush to his dick, making him go lightheaded for a moment. He steadied himself against Richie. Leaning down, Richie whispered in Mike’s ear, “Now be a good little slut and strip for daddy.” 

Mike gasped and shivered as Richie released him. Richie sat on the couch, his legs spread wide, eyes expectantly on Mike. Mike’s instinct was to crawl onto Richie’s lap, but he had been told what to do, and he wanted to be good. So he slipped his shirt off, covering himself up shyly as he did so. “That’s it, baby,” Richie encouraged, “keep going. Show daddy what a good little slut you are, yeah?” Mike whimpered and nodded, quickly taking his pants off and boxers off, revealing just how achingly hard he already was. He dropped to his knees between Richie’s legs once he was completely bare, feeling incredibly vulnerable, especially since Richie was still fully dressed, just watching him. He leaned forward, and Richie responded by tugging his hair back harshly, making Mike gasp. “Did I say to kneel, sweetheart?”

Mike cowered a bit at the power in Richie’s voice. It wasn’t mean, more of a warning. It gave Richie a sense of authority that only made him want to choke on Richie’s cock more. 

But Richie had asked him a question. “No,” he answered softly.

“That’s right. Now stand up, let daddy see you.” 

Mike stood on trembling legs, and Richie pulled at him until Mike was standing between Richie’s legs, his cock on full display. Richie ran his finger over it lightly, almost like his touch wasn’t there. “This desperate for it already, baby?” he teased. “God, you really are a little slut, aren’t you, pretty?” Mike whimpered and nodded. “Yeah, you are. And you know what pretty little sluts wear?” When Mike gave him a questioning look, he leaned over and reached into a bag Mike hadn’t even noticed. Out of it he pulled a pair of white lace panties, then ran his hands over Mike’s thighs. “Good sluts wear whatever daddy tells them to.” Mike nodded eagerly, and Richie held the panties open. “Step in, babydoll.” Mike did as he was told, steadying himself on Richie’s shoulders. He moaned at the sight once they were on, moaned at the way Richie dressed him and ran his hands over his body like he owned it. “God, baby, you’re already ruining them.” Richie continued to tease him, running his finger over the wet spot forming on the front of Mike’s panties. His touch made Mike gasp and buck his hips forward. But instead of touching him, Richie just laughed. “Such a needy little boy, aren’t you? Just a wet little mess, desperate to get off.” All Mike could do was whine and cover his mouth, pressing his legs together. “Can’t even talk, can you? Such a dumb little baby, can only think about getting fucked. You need daddy to think for you.” Richie pressed small kisses to Mike’s thighs. Even as he degraded him, his voice was dripping honey. It made Mike’s brain fog up, made him even needier.

“Daddy,” he whined, seeking his touch, “please.”

“Aw, do you want daddy to touch you, baby?” Richie cooed, easily catching both of Mike’s wrists in his hand. Mike squirmed at the firm grip Richie had on him, at how big Richie’s hand looked around his wrists, keeping him where he wanted him. 

“Yes,” Mike whimpered. “Please, daddy, please.” He tried to pull his hands away and was thrilled to find that Richie barely broke a sweat to keep him in place.

“Hm, I don’t know if I’m convinced, babydoll. Why don’t you show me how bad you want it?” Mike gave him a confused look; his mind was too fuzzy to understand what Richie was implying. How could he show him how bad he wanted him if he couldn’t touch him? Richie smiled darkly at Mike’s dazed look, then nodded toward the ottoman that sat near the foot of the armchair near the other end of the couch. “Go show daddy how bad you want me to touch you.”

Mike still wasn’t following. “Should I touch myself over there?” he asked, clearly uncertain about it.

An amused and, dare Mike say it, fond smile danced over Richie’s lips, made his eyes twinkle. “God, you’re cute when you’re dumb, kitten.” Mike blushed; normally he’d fight anyone who called him dumb, but Richie calling him dumb while looking at him like that made Mike weak in the knees. “Don’t worry, daddy won’t make you think any harder, okay, pretty? Just go sit over there and hump the seat like the pretty, desperate slut you are. Can you do that for me, bunny?” Glowing from all the pet names, Mike nodded, eager to please—and to get off, even if he had to do it himself.

On shaking legs, he stepped reluctantly away from Richie and made his way over to the ottoman, straddling it and sitting down near one edge, placing his hands on the other. He could mostly still see Richie, but he was turned at an angle from him, which meant RIchie could see exactly what Mike was doing. With a thrill, Mike realized that Richie must’ve positioned the seat like this before Mike got here, that he was meant to be totally on display for Richie. The thought made his cock ache, so he was happy to do as Richie told him and angle his hips forward, rocking his cock against the soft cushion. He let out a soft little noise as he finally felt that pressure he’d been so desperately needing, sending waves of pleasure through him. It was incredibly degrading, getting himself off by humping a piece of furniture, especially as Richie watched him, revealing no sign of being affected other than the hand that was lazily stroking his cock through his jeans. But that was what made it feel as amazing as it did. Soon, Mike was really getting into it, moving his hips desperate and quick.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart, just like that,” Richie encouraged. His voice had that low, condescending power to it that made Mike want to lay himself out for Richie to do anything he wanted with him. “God, look at you, such a needy little thing, aren’t you? Does that feel good?” Mike whimpered and nodded. And it did feel good; but not as good as he knew Richie’s hand would.

“Want you, daddy,” he managed to whine. This was nice, and it made his head feel fuzzy, but it wasn’t getting him to that speechless state that Richie got him to so easily. 

“Aw, you want daddy to help you, baby?” Richie taunted.

“Please,” Mike whined again, nearly crying, but still rocking his hips, still chasing the feeling of the soft cushion pressing against his aching, dripping cock. 

“I don’t know, babydoll, looks like you’re doing just fine by yourself. Such a slutty little boy, even a footrest can make you feel good. You just need something touching your needy little cock, doesn’t matter what it is. Isn’t that right, princess?”

Mike was pouting now, and shaking his head, but he didn’t stop rocking his hips, couldn’t stop; it felt too good, yet just not enough. “Need you, daddy, please.” He thought about what Richie had said, the things that made Mike want to melt in his hands. The things about Mike needing to turn his brain off and let Richie think for him. It gave him an idea. Ducking his head, he met Richie’s gaze from under his fringe as he whimpered, “Please, daddy, can’t do it on my own. I don’t know how to do it right, need you to help me, daddy.” His own words just spurred him on, and they apparently had a similar effect on Richie, as Mike could see his eyes getting darker as Mike pleaded with him. He even got Richie to get up and walk over toward him. The way he loomed over Mike had his eyes going wide. And then, to Mike’s satisfaction and joy, Richie plucked him easily up off the ottoman and carried him to the couch, where he settled Mike on his lap, stradling one of Richie’s thighs. 

“You need daddy’s help, baby?” Richie asked, kissing Mike softly. Mike sighed and nodded, leaning into Richie, wrapping his arms around his neck. It was so nice to be so close to him. “Here, daddy’ll show you how to do it.” He grabbed Mike by his hips and dragged them forward and back, guiding him to grind against Richie’s leg. Mike happily complied. Humping the ottoman had felt nice, and Richie’s eyes on him had felt even nicer, but nothing compared to having Richie’s hands on him, grabbing at him. And Mike could get even more into it now that he could grab onto Richie. He buried his face in Richie’s shoulder, letting out small little moans as he panted from the effort of humping Richie’s thigh. “Do you like that, sweetheart?” Richie asked, kneading Mike’s ass with his fingers.

“Y-yes, daddy,” he moaned, his breath hitching. “Will you… will you please touch me?”

“Aw, but it’s so fun to see what a desperate little slut you are for me,” Richie grinned. He gave Mike’s ass a playful slap, then another, harder one when Mike moaned. “See? So perfect and slutty for me. I think you could probably get off just from this, couldn’t you?”

He would’ve loved to, but he  _ couldn’t _ , and he knew Richie knew he couldn’t, it was just barely not enough, kept him right on the edge, desperately humping against him, trying to get to a place he couldn’t, not like this, not by himself. “No, daddy,” he whined, “need you, need you to touch me,  _ please _ .” He grabbed at Richie’s right hand, trying to guide it toward the front of his panties. Richie laughed at his efforts and easily overpowered him, guiding his hand back around Richie’s shoulders.

“Okay, baby, okay, daddy will help you.” Mike let out a desperate, thrilled moan, rocking his hips forward, which made Richie laugh darkly again. “Fuck, such an eager little boy today, hmm?” Richie kissed Mike’s nose. “I’ll touch you, baby, but you have to ask really nicely, okay?”

Mike grinned and nodded, biting his lip. Putting on the sweetest look he could, he met Richie’s eyes and said, “Will you please touch me, daddy?”

Richie smirked. “Touch you where, angel?” Mike whined, and Richie grabbed him by the jaw, suddenly stern. “I said ask  _ nicely _ , sweetheart. Now, where do you want daddy to touch you?” Mike whimpered and ducked his head, trying to hide his face, his cheeks burning; it was such a  _ dirty  _ thing to say. “Aw, kitten, you know you don’t need to be shy with daddy. Or are you just too much of a little ditz to use your words?” Mike moaned at that, and he melted into Richie, but Richie kept him upright. “Yeah, I know, you’re a little dumb, aren’t you, baby?” Mike nodded, his brain fogging from Richie’s words. He would do anything to get Richie to keep talking to him like that, to keep calling him names in that sweet voice while he ran his hands over Mike’s body, somehow both soothingly and possessively. “Well daddy can’t help his little boy if I don’t know where he needs to be touched. How about you show me, would that be easier?” Mike nodded and grabbed for Richie’s hand again. This time, Richie let him, but he stopped just short of Mike’s cock. Mike didn’t whine this time, just gave Richie a pitiful look, a small whimper escaping his lips. But Mike saw that Richie’s eyes had softened a little. “Give daddy a kiss first, princess.” Mike beamed and surged forward, happily connecting their lips. Once he did, Richie murmured a soft, “Good boy,” then dipped his hand into Mike’s panties and wrapped his fingers around Mike’s cock.

Mike cried out and held onto him tighter, pleasure washing over him as he finally got what he’d been needing. He rocked his hips with Richie’s movements, chasing the pleasure Richie was giving him. God, Richie knew just how to touch him. His hands were so  _ big _ , and he swiped his thumb just right over the head of Mike’s cock. He ran his other hand up Mike’s side to play with his nipples, which made Mike shiver. Mike’s eyes screwed shut as he leaned into Richie, letting out little moans of, “Yes, yes, daddy, yes.”

“God, you’re such a mess for me, baby,” Richie marveled as he played with Mike. “So nice and easy for me, such a pretty little slut. Makes you so fun to play with.” Mike moaned as Richie’s words took him to that soft, floaty place, his body going limp in Richie’s hands. His pleasure was building and building, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. “Fuck, you’re already close, aren’t you?” Richie cooed, and all Mike could do was give him another broken  _ yes, daddy _ . “God, so good for me, so easy and needy and desperate and sensitive, aren’t you, angel?” Mike moaned again and nodded, clinging tight to Richie. “Come on, sweetheart, be a good little boy and come for daddy.”

He didn’t have to say any more. Mike knew he was gone then. With a few more strokes, his pleasure peaked, making him spasm and tremble in Richie’s arms as he stroked him through it, whispering sweet nothings that he couldn’t make out through the overwhelming pleasure that wracked through him. 

He felt like he was floating as he came down, and he collapsed against Richie’s chest. “You did so good for me, baby,” Richie praised him, kissing his forehead. Mike grinned and nuzzled into Richie. He might’ve made a small, happy noise, but he was honestly still too far gone to be sure. He knew that Richie was stroking his back, that he was holding him, and that was all that mattered for a few moments. But then he blinked his eyes open, came back to earth a little, and he found that Richie was smiling at him, his eyes still glittering. “You did so good for me,” he said again, “but you made a mess, didn’t you?” Mike looked down and saw that there was in fact a pool of his come on Richie’s jeans. “Think you can clean that up for me, angel?”

Mike smiled and happily dropped to his knees between Richie’s legs. Looking up at Richie from under his eyelashes, he stuck his tongue out and lapped up the mess he’d made. It tasted a little bitter, but it was nice; he still felt all fuzzy, and the way Richie was brushing his hair back, watching Mike lick up his own come, made Mike feel amazing. The denim was rough on his tongue in a way that made him shiver; he was almost sad when there was no more come left to clean up. But then he was going to Richie’s zipper, eager to help him out. He startled when Richie stopped him. 

“Hey, you don’t need to do that, baby. Come on, let’s cuddle a little, yeah?”

His voice was soft, but Mike felt like he was plummeting, panic overcoming him. Did Richie not want him? He wanted to make Richie feel good. He wanted to be good for him. Had he not been? Did he not make Richie feel good?

He didn’t realize he was crying until he heard alarm in Richie’s voice, felt himself being gently picked up and brought back into Richie’s arms.

It took him a minute to be able to register what Richie was saying to him, but he soon caught up. He was in Richie’s arms, bawling into his shoulder, and he couldn’t quite say why. He just felt suddenly awful. He’d felt so amazing just moments before, but now he was back to that shitty place he’d been before Richie picked him up. This might’ve even felt worse. “Hey, Mikey, sweetheart, can you hear me?” It took him a second, but Mike managed to nod. Richie breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey, okay, that’s it, good boy. Daddy’s here, yeah? Daddy’s got you, you’re okay.” That helped Mike calm down, slowed the tears, but he still felt like curling in on himself. And now that he was cognizant again, he was embarrassed. Who the fuck cried over not sucking dick? “Can you tell me what’s wrong, angel?” Richie asked in a soft voice. He was kissing Mike’s hair and rubbing his back, and holding Mike so close to him. It made Mike feel a little better, the feeling that Richie wanted him that close. But Mike wasn’t good at talking about things that upset him, and he wasn’t even sure why he was upset, so he just gave Richie a small shrug and wiped his tears away. Richie took over for him, wiping at his cheeks much more gently than Mike had been. “You know I want you, so much, right? You’re amazing. I just wanted to focus on you for a little longer.” Mike took a deep breath, trying to process Richie’s words. “Yeah,” Richie smiled, realizing he was getting through to him, “you’re amazing.” He kissed Mike’s forehead. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. The perfect sub. And you’re so good for daddy, so thoughtful and generous and soft and pretty. You make me feel so good. I just wanted to make  _ you _ feel that good, too, because I know you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“You make me feel  _ so _ good,” Mike said. His voice was still shaky and small, but the fact that he could speak at all was a good sign. He was already feeling better, if a little drained, and still more than a little embarrassed.

Richie grinned and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad.” Then, getting more serious, he asked, “Can you tell me what’s wrong, baby?”

Mike shrugged again. He really couldn’t. “I just feel… bad.” The word that he was really looking for was guilty, but he ran from guilt like it could kill him, because it really felt like it could. He wasn’t ready to decode whatever was going on inside him just yet; he was too scared. This was too perfect to fuck up.

“Bad about yourself?”

“I guess,” Mike mumbled. That definitely  _ had  _ been what triggered this particular episode, but it was embarrassing to admit.

Richie cupped Mike’s face in his hands. “Mikey, sweetheart, you are so amazing. You are gorgeous, and smart, and precious, and you make me feel so good.”

“Yeah?” Mike asked, his heart tentatively opening up, wanting to believe it.

Richie gave Mike a grin that made him feel like he was glowing. “Are you kidding me? You’re a fucking dream. I couldn’t build someone better if this was fucking  _ Pixel Perfect _ .” Mike laughed softly at that. “Seriously, when you get all soft and sweet for me… God, your eyes are all wide and sweet, and your voice is so cute and small, but you do such dirty, slutty things for daddy whenever I tell you to.” Mike shivered as Richie’s tone dropped. “You’re  _ so _ good for me, so obedient and eager and adorable. You’re everything I could ever dream of and more. And I have weirdly vivid dreams.” Mike giggled again and scoffed. Richie pulled him close and kissed him. “I mean it. I’ve been looking for a sub I really mesh with for fucking forever, and not to quote  _ High School Musical  _ when I’m trying to be serious, but I feel like I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for.”

Mike grinned. “I love  _ High School Musical _ .”

“I know, you’ve mentioned it.” Richie smiled as he kissed Mike, soft and slow. “Would that make you feel better? Wanna order pizza and watch  _ High School Musical _ ?”

“I’ll never say no to that,” Mike said. But he looked down at Richie’s lap and said, “But what about…”

“Listen, as much as I am always down for you to blow me, we should really just unwind right now, do things that make you happy. Drops aren’t something to take lightly.”

Mike countered, “Sucking your dick makes me happy.” 

“Don’t make me use my daddy dom voice to get you to sit your pretty ass down and watch this movie,” Richie laughed, peppering kisses over Mike’s face. Mike giggled at that, finally conceding. “Tell you what my itinerary is. First, I’m gonna take these jeans off, because as hot as it was to watch you come all over them and then lick it up, it’s getting a little uncomfortable now. Then, I’m gonna order us a pizza. Sound good?” Mike nodded, accepting that having Richie’s dick down his throat was not happening in the immediate future. Honestly, he knew Richie was probably right; giving a blowjob after sobbing over nothing was probably not standard, or even a good idea. Didn’t mean Mike wouldn’t pout about it a little more, especially when Richie took his pants off and didn’t put any new ones on, opting to walk around in his boxers for the rest of the night. Well, actually, it wasn’t that hard to resist, because his boxers were pink and had a giant Kirby face on the ass, which was a pretty effective boner killer. But from the front it was still kind of tempting. 

Eating pizza while watching  _ High School Musical  _ with Richie was really nice, but it still made him feel a little strange. Mostly because this was a routine he mostly engaged in with El and Max (and Dustin, when he was around). It made him wonder how it would feel to do this with all of them at the same time. But he stopped that train of thought when something like fear began to creep into his chest.

He was lying with his head on Richie’s chest, running his hands absently over his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt soft under Mike’s fingertips. Richie’s heart was beating beneath Mike, so he heard it when it started racing. “Hey,” Richie started suddenly, getting Mike’s attention. Mike sat up just enough to look down at Richie. His own heart was racing now. 

“Yeah?”

“So, next Friday, my friend Bev needs some people to help her with some new designs she’s working on.”

“Designs?”

“Yeah, sorry, she’s a fashion designer. Wow, I’ve never mentioned that yet? But yeah, so I’m gonna go over to help her. You know, be her little Victoria’s Secret angel.” Richie gave Mike a grin, but his eyes flickered quickly to the side for a moment before meeting Mike’s. “Would you wanna come? My friend Stan will be there too, you can meet them both. I’m sure Bev could use another model. And you know I love to watch you play dress up.” A genuine smile spread over his lips as he said that last part, his eyes roaming over Mike’s body.

But Mike’s eyes were bugging out of his head. Richie wanted him to meet his friends. Richie wanted him to meet his friends? Did Richie’s friends want to meet him? What did this mean? Oh fuck, what if he fucked this up?

His feelings must’ve shined on his face like a billboard, because Richie rushed to say, “You don’t have to, I just—”

“No!” Mike cut him off quickly. God, he didn’t want to ever be the reason Richie made a face like that. “No, I do, I do wanna meet them. That sounds fun.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah!” Mike's voice was softer now, encouraging. He cupped Richie’s face in his hands and brought their lips together, showing him just how okay he was with it. Even if he had to swallow down his terror in order to do so. 

It was so worth it to see the way Richie beamed at him when he pulled away. “Great! I promise it’ll be fun, and if it’s not we can have our own fun later.” He pinched Mike’s ass, earning himself a light slap to the chest while they both laughed. Richie kissed Mike again, and when they pulled back his eyes had softened. “They’re great. If you can stand me, you’ll love them.”

“I do a lot more than tolerate you,” Mike pointed out. 

“Oh?” Richie grinned, his cheeks pink. “You trying to tell me you like me?” 

Mike responded to that by shaking his head and draping himself over Richie and kissing him, deep and slow, a smile on his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! so this is that last full chapter i have finished. if you want a 3k chapter with no smut next week lmk, that's ready to go (most chapters are 6k-8k so far). if you want a long chapter 9 with smut i cannot tell you when that will come out bc im back at school and work now, so i dont have a lot of writing time anymore, sorry ): so lmk what yall prefer!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reached a black spiral staircase that seemed to disappear into a loft, and Richie bellowed a loud, “Bevvie, I’m home!” as they approached.
> 
> It only took a moment for her to appear, leaning over the railing of the next floor, a big grin on her beautiful face. She was even more stunning in person, her curls a rich red that fell in waves just past her shoulders, which were covered in freckles. Mike was relieved to find that she was just in a simple black tank top and some light wash boyfriend jeans. Much more casual than he’d been expecting, but she still looked gorgeous. “Who’s this?” she asked, still beaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! so this is sort of two chapters in one, it's the meeting-richies-friends chapter and the valentines day chapter! chapter tags/warnings: mike in dresses!! daddy kink, praise, degradation, choking, impact play (light hitting), bondage, blindfolds, vibrators under clothes in public

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck _ fuck _ Mike was so scared. Meeting Richie’s friends felt scarier than the idea of meeting his parents. The way Richie talked about his friends, Mike could tell they meant the world to him. He talked about them protectively, even if he didn’t mean to. Mike couldn’t imagine what it meant that he wanted Mike to meet people who were so special to him. It felt like an honor he didn’t deserve. He had to do this right. He  _ needed  _ to make them like him, he couldn’t let Richie down.

But fuck, people didn’t like Mike easily. He was awkward and annoying and nerdy and boring and irritable. Fuck, he was gonna fuck this up. 

That was pretty much his thought process all week. Any time that wasn’t devoted to work or DnD was spent fretting. To make matters worse, Richie was really busy with work that week, so Mike only got to see him once more before Friday, when he was meeting his friends. 

And as though his worrying wasn’t enough, he had another heart attack on Thursday when he was out getting coffee with El. The conversation had been going great, the way it always did with her. But then Max’s trip to Chicago came up.

“So I guess it’s just you and me for Valentine’s Day this year,” she’d grinned, giving Mike a playfully nudge.

Mike felt like he’d been struck with lightning. His eyes went wide, like a deer in headlights, as he sputtered out an, “Uh, actually…”

El’s eyebrows shot up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Are you telling me you have a Valentine’s date?” 

“No,” Mike was quick to say. She gave him a look. “No, I’m uh, I volunteered to help with this trivia fundraiser thing for work. You know. Since I’m all single and everything.” El’s brow only got more furrowed the more he went on.

“You’re leaving me alone on Valentine's Day to do a work thing?” she asked, her voice both clearly annoyed and hurt.

Mike’s heart sank. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot Max wouldn’t be here when I agreed to this.” Fuck. Fuck, El  _ hated  _ being lied to. He was gonna be in the deepest shit if she found out. Well,  _ when  _ she found out. Why was he even lying about this? Well it was too late now, he had to keep going with this. “You’re telling me you don’t have a date?” he asked with a smile.

El softened at the compliment, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Some coworkers have been throwing around the idea of going clubbing together on Valentine’s Day, I guess I can go with them.”

“That sounds like a lot more fun than sitting on your ex’s couch eating fancy food and chocolate while fighting over what to watch,” he grinned. 

El scrunched up her face. “Ew, don’t call yourself my ex while we’re talking about Valentine's Day.”

Mike chuckled. “I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

The rest of their time together went smoothly, but over the next twenty-four hours Mike became a time bomb of stress and guilt and other more complicated feelings. He channeled these feeling into picking out an outfit. Fuck, what do you wear to a fashion designer’s house? He was gonna make himself sick worrying about it. He even debated calling Lucas again, but ultimately decided against it. He settled on an outfit similar to the one he’d worn on his first date with Richie and prayed that that would be okay.

Mike was never a subtle person, so Richie picked up on his stress levels as soon as he got in the car. “Hey there, gorgeous,” he grinned, pulling Mike in for a long, pointed kiss. “I missed you.” Mike glowed at that.

“I missed you, too.” God, he couldn't even express how much he really meant that.

“You get all dolled up for me?” he grinned, checking Mike out shamelessly.

Mike rolled his eyes as he put his seatbelt on. “You said Beverly is a fashion designer. I figured I could at least try to make a good first impression.” 

“Good call. She does kick ugly people out of her house.” Mike gave him a look, but Richie just took him by the hand and kissed his knuckles. “They’re gonna love you. Seriously, they seem cool at first, but they’re losers at their core just like you and me, trust me.”

And Mike did trust Richie. He trusted him so much. But he was still terrified. He was just feeling so much lately.

Richie picked up on it. Mike was beginning to realize that there wasn’t much Richie missed. “Something else on your mind? Are you upset I called you a loser?”

Mike smiled and shook his head. “I’m just… Are you doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” he blurted out. Richie beamed.

“Oh, I have plans for Valentine’s Day, trust me. Daddy’s got it taken care of.” Mike wasn’t sure if he was supposed to like the daddy thing in that context or if it was supposed to be a joke, but it did make him relax a little bit, definitely took his mind off of his worries for a moment. But there was still the guilt over the look El had given him. He was sure she would have fun, but he knew that wasn’t the thing making his throat feel tight. “You still have that adorable little line between your eyebrows,” Richie cut in, breaking Mike from his thoughts. “Is that okay? Did you have ideas?” After a moment, he added, “You got some hot date lined up?” Richie gave Mike a playful smile as he said that last part, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“No, I’m excited to see what you’ve got planned,” Mike assured him, squeezing his hand. “I just feel bad, I think it kind of blindsided El that I’ll have plans without her.”

Richie’s eyes shifted between Mike and the road. “Do you normally spend Valentine’s Day with El?”

Mike shrugged. “Well, I’ve only been in LA for a few years, but it’s been me, El, and Max as a sort of trio here, and Max always spends Valentine’s Day with Lucas. Last Valentine’s Day we were both seeing people, but the year before we spent it together, just eating chocolate and watching movies.”

“Damn, spending Valentine’s Day with your ex. There’s a romcom plot in there,” he joked. “Get some pun on Groundhog Day in there and you’re set.” Mimicking a film trailer voiceover, he went on, “This Valentine’s Day, fate and the loneliness of the twenty-first century  _ thrust _ two lovers back together. Can they make it through this lonely holiday without boning? Will their love be revived? Oh! Maybe it’s also about zombies!” Mike shook his head and giggled at Richie’s antics. “No, no, this is good stuff! Write this down! I want the pitch ready by morning!”

“Yeah, I hear the market for movies about zombie groundhogs falling in love is booming right now,” he replied dryly. 

“Hey,  _ Zombeavers  _ did okay!”

“What the  _ hell  _ is  _ Zombeavers? _ ” Mike asked, almost scared to hear the answer.

“Oh, Mikey, it’s formative cinema!”

Mike Googled it. Suffice to say, he didn’t feel like he was missing out on much. 

The drive went fairly quickly, until suddenly they were surrounded by huge houses. “Woah, wait, she lives in Beverly Hills?” Mike asked, incredulous. 

“Oh, yeah, did I not mention that?” 

“No, you didn’t.” They pulled into a driveway of one of the ridiculously nice houses. Richie’s friend  _ lived  _ here? “Holy shit,” he said aloud.

“You should definitely make a joke about Beverly living in Beverly Hills, she loves them,” Richie grinned.

Mike rolled his eyes. Yeah, he was not gonna do that. “I’m willing to bet cash that she doesn’t.”

“Hey, you know I’ll give you my money without any need for gambling,” Richie winked as he got out of the car. “But you are right, when she first moved I called her boobs her Beverly’s Hills and I nearly got killed with a red bottom.”

“Sounds like you deserved it,” Mike grinned. 

“Probably,” Richie agreed with a smirk that let Mike know just how funny Richie found himself. It made Mike smile. 

Richie put his hand on Mike’s waist as they walked up to the door. He didn’t ring or knock, just entered the passcode on the pin pad she had outside her door and waltzed right in. Mike felt weird just walking into a stranger’s home, but Richie’s confidence made him feel a little better about it. His hand on Mike’s waist made him feel better, too. 

The inside of the house was even nicer than the outside. It was clean and sleek, but there were pictures and art pieces on the walls, and fruit bowls on the tables, and blankets on the couches in the living room. Mike recognized most of the people in the pictures from Richie’s Instagram, but there were also a lot of pictures of Bev with another woman Mike had never seen before, with beautiful dark curls that framed her face like a halo, and a smile that was both unmistakably confident and incredibly kind. 

They reached a black spiral staircase that seemed to disappear into a loft, and Richie bellowed a loud, “Bevvie, I’m home!” as they approached.

It only took a moment for her to appear, leaning over the railing of the next floor, a big grin on her beautiful face. She was even more stunning in person, her curls a rich red that fell in waves just past her shoulders, which were covered in freckles. Mike was relieved to find that she was just in a simple black tank top and some light wash boyfriend jeans. Much more casual than he’d been expecting, but she still looked gorgeous. “Who’s this?” she asked, still beaming.

“Intruders,” Richie grinned as he led Mike up the stairs. Fuck, Mike hoped his hands weren’t sweating. His heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest as they reached the top of the stairs, where Beverly was waiting for them. 

“Oh, I’m scared,” she giggled as Richie wrapped her in a hug, lifting her off her feet. He set her back down soon enough and took Mike gently by the waist again, guiding him forward. “Bev, this is Mike. Mike, this is Beverly Marsh, the love of my life.”

Mike wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go for a handshake, but Beverly was wrapping him in a hug before he had time to worry about it. She was shorter than him, probably about 5’8, but she had a smile and presence that could’ve convinced anyone she was at least six foot. She pulled back and gave him a kind, genuine smile. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Yeah, you too!” he grinned. “Your house is beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you! My partner Ben designed it.” Her voice dripped with pride as she mentioned him, and Mike could practically see the hearts flying around her head. It was really sweet. “You’re just as cute as Richie said,” she winked.

“Hey, back off, you’re already boning two hot people on the regular,” Richie cut in, looping his arm around Mike’s waist more firmly. “This cutie patootie’s mine.” Mike blushed and tried not to be too obvious about how much he liked Richie being possessive over him, even if he was just joking. 

“Mike, blink twice if he’s forcing you to do this,” a smooth voice coming from Mike’s right said. Mike nearly jumped; he hadn’t known there was anyone else here. But there, lounging on one of the couches, was a man Mike could only describe as elegant. Mike recognized him as Stanley, and he had a long, slender body and dark brown hair that curled just right around his face. He also had deep green eyes that glittered with the energy of an inside joke, all while appearing to be the face of serenity. 

“Hey, I’m not  _ forcing  _ him to do this, I’m  _ paying  _ him,” Richie joked. “Mikey, this is Stan the Man, also known as Stanley the Manly, Staniel the Maniel, and Stanathan.”

Stan stood, his movements like water as he walked up to Mike and held his hand out. “My name is Stan,” he clarified with a nearly imperceptible grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Mike grinned, shaking Stan’s hand. God, he felt inadequate. He felt like Bella meeting the Cullens for the first time. How were these people real? How were Richie’s friends this inhumanely beautiful? Was being gorgeous a requirement for being in their friend group? Richie had said they were all losers, but Mike couldn’t imagine either of these people being bullied. Not that Richie wasn’t just as hot, but the whole running his mouth thing made sense to Mike. He couldn’t detect a single embarrassing thing about Bev or Stan, though.

Something else was nagging at him as well: Richie had just introduced him as Mike. Not his boyfriend Mike, not his friend Mike, not his sub or fuckbuddy or Tinder date. Just Mike. It was incredibly unhelpful in Mike’s attempts to decipher what Richie wanted Mike to be to him.

Bev had ordered Japanese food before they’d arrived, which they all shared as they chatted on the couches. Mike learned that Bev had two partners, Ben and Kay, but Kay was away for the week and Ben was living in northern California while he finished building a house for a big client Bev legally wasn’t allowed to mention. 

Stan was single and an accountant. He was also funny in the weirdest way, which Mike had not expected from his cool, collected disposition. He reminded him of El in that way; only the most unexpected things could crack her up.

Mike quickly picked up that they were currently in Bev’s studio, as there were mannequins all over the place, and a huge desk covered in designs and other pieces of paper. She also took all of the food downstairs and made everyone wash their hands before showing them what she was currently working on, what she wanted their advice on. Mike wasn’t sure how much help he could offer in the ways of fashion, but he was happy to be there. The more they talked, the more charmed he was by Bev and Stan. He could see why Richie loved them so much, and they clearly loved him right back, meeting his banter hit for hit, laughing at his jokes just as much as they hit him playfully on his shoulder. They had that easy rapport that came with years and years of friendship, but they never made Mike feel left out. Sure, he was still nervous, still wanted to make a good impression, but Bev was effusively kind, and Stan shared knowing smiles with Mike that made him feel like they’d known each other for so much longer than just one night, made him feel like Stan liked him at least enough to be nice to him.

Then the work started. And Mike was having a great time. Bev was wrapping Richie in clothes, then taking them off, working them around his body. The clothes were beautiful—fitted blazers with floral patterns, dresses designed for body types other than the typical flowy model. Richie had fairly broad shoulders, and he filled out the clothes perfectly. Stan also helped, trying on some pants and dress shirts that were much more suited to his own style than Richie’s.

But there came a point when Mike realized that Bev was eyeing him. He met her eyes and gave her an awkward little wave that made her grin, a wicked twinkling in her hazel eyes. “Mike, will you help me with something?”

Well, he wasn’t about to say no to the lovely hostess. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he nodded, standing up hesitantly. 

“Great!” Bev exclaimed. She took him by the hand and dragged him to the dressing room in the back of the loft (it was just a screen that sectioned off enough space for someone to get dressed, but there were hooks and a seat, so Mike was definitely still impressed). “Would you mind slipping this on for me? You have the perfect figure for it, and it’ll look amazing with your skin tone.” Mike flushed as Bev handed him a deep red floor length dress.

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to,” Bev said, “but yeah, that’ll look amazing on you.”

After a moment of consideration, Mike agreed to try it on. The fabric was incredibly soft on his skin, and the dress fell to just the right length. He nearly gasped at his own reflection, and Bev’s hooting only made him flush deeper as he stepped out. Stan complimented him more tamely. But what really made Mike feel good was the speechless way Richie was drinking him in. It gave him the confidence boost to try on more of Bev’s dresses, light pinks and dark blues and stark whites. Richie seemed to appreciate each one more than the last. Mike was having a blast. 

But soon it was over, and Mike was back in his own clothes and in Richie’s car. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think that went well,” he said, nodding to himself. “Do you think that went well?”

“I’m sure you’re hired,” Richie teased, leaning over to kiss Mike. “Like that was a joke about you sounding like you just had a job interview, but seriously, I do think Bev might try to rope you into modelling for her again. She seemed to be having a lot of fun dressing you up.”

Mike looked down at Richie’s lips. “What about you?”

“Me? I’ve been modelling for Bev for years. She can’t get rid of me.”

“No, I mean… Did you like it? When I tried on all that stuff?” Mike felt so vulnerable asking. God, he’d been trying to flirt, but now he just felt like an exposed nerve.

But Richie comforted him with that slow, cocky, hungry grin and a hand on Mike’s thigh. “Oh, princess,” Richie murmured, his voice making Mike lean in for more, “you know daddy loves seeing you all dolled up and pretty.” Mike let out a small, strangled noise. 

He tried to stay strong, he really did. He tried his best to make it home with just Richie’s fingers in his mouth. But he could see that Richie was getting hard as Mike ran his lips and tongue over his fingers, and he needed to taste him, he needed to feel Richie down his throat. It made his heart race, having his head in Richie’s lap while they drove down a public road, down a highway. He knew the darkness of the night covered them, but it still sent a thrill through Mike to be making Richie moan like that while he was driving. He also loved the way Richie’s fingers threaded through his hair, guiding his head up and down as the smooth skin of Richie’s cock glided against Mike’s wet lips. To Mike’s pride and pleasure, he was able to make Richie come in under ten minutes, before they rolled up to Mike’s apartment. Mike savored the taste of Richie’s come, making a show of having it on his tongue before swallowing it and tucking Richie back into his pants. So, yeah, maybe he hadn’t been able to hold out, but he learned that he really liked giving road head. And wasn’t a learning experience always worth it? The awestruck look Richie had on his face for the rest of the drive was definitely worth it.

He didn’t know if saying goodbye to Richie would ever get easier. It was a lengthy process, with lots of kisses and hands cupping cheeks and fingers brushing through hair. It was always so bittersweet, the way Richie smiled at him. And Mike would always ask for a text when Richie got home safe, which made Richie smile. That smile made Mike feel amazing, like he was floating.

But the elevator ride up to his apartment was always lonely. He wanted to curl up with Richie, wanted to hear him ramble on about anything while Mike fell asleep with his head on Richie’s chest.

Mike lay in bed that night struggling to sleep despite his fatigue. Richie had introduced him to his friends. That was a big step, right? Or was he making a big deal out of nothing? It was also just so confusing, the uncertainty. Richie hadn’t given him a moniker, no indication of what their relationship was. He’d mentioned fucking Mike, but Mike already knew they did that, that did nothing to reveal what they were to each other. Or what their relationship was to other people.

That thought brought the guilt crushing down again. At least Bev and Stan knew about Mike, even if it wasn’t quite clear exactly who Mike was. But Mike wanted to have a clear definition before talking to El and Max about it. Bev and Stan seemed like pretty chill people; El and Max, however, were gonna have a lot of questions, and Mike wanted to have solid answers for them.

But getting those solid answers was gonna require asking Richie what they were. And the idea of straight up asking Richie what Mike meant to him was terrifying. The thought of having to put his own feelings into words was even scarier. Mike liked where they were. Why fuck it up?

You know what? This wasn’t a problem yet. Mike had time to figure it out. He would get there soon. Things would fall into place. He would know when the right time to tell them would be, he’d know when it was the right time to ask. It would happen eventually.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he drifted off to sleep. 

  
  


Valentine’s Day was the following Thursday. Mike’s enthusiasm for holidays had ebbed and flowed over his lifetime, ranging from childhood joy to adolescent disinterest. By this point in his life, he wasn’t going wild planning any events, but he still enjoyed them. He wore a pink sweater to office hours, and he brought Valentine’s candies for any students who happened to come ask him questions. He also brought El a chocolate croissant and some sandwiches they shared in her kitchen, hoping the lunch would make up for their lack of a movie night.

“I like this sweater,” she commented with a pointed grin, as if she wasn’t the one who got it for him for his birthday a little over a month earlier.

Mike rolled his eyes, but he still gave her a smile. “Thanks, picked it out myself.”

“Okay, while I  _ am _ going to take credit for the sweater, I’m impressed by your choice of pants.” 

“Well, I’ve been dressing myself for a while now,” Mike retorted sarcastically.

“No, I’m serious!” El giggled. “You look so good! You look like Harry Styles!” Mike thought that was a bit of a reach, but he wasn’t going to turn down the compliment—and it  _ was _ a compliment, they were both in love with Harry Styles. 

Mike wasn’t expecting many students to be coming in that day. What he was expecting even less were the flowers sitting in the middle of his desk when he entered his office. It made him stop in his tracks, took his breath away. With a few minutes left before his office hours officially started, he closed the door behind him before walking over to the bouquet. There was also a box of chocolates, he noticed, with a note attached. 

_ Some sweets for a sweetheart with a sweet ass (; can’t wait to see you tonight <3 _

_ xxx u know who (i hope) (its richie) (the hot one) _

Mike couldn’t stop smiling to himself, reading the message over and over. It was ridiculous, but that was fitting. The thought to be embarrassed about whatever custodial employee had dropped this off reading about Mike’s “sweet ass” passed through his mind, but only briefly. Mostly he was overwhelmed by the romance of it all. Mike’s last relationship had been brief and stinted; he certainly hadn’t been romanced on this level. Even if the note was silly, the gesture itself made Mike feel a little more confident that Richie wanted him for more than just a few weeks, that he felt seriously about Mike. It was a weird thought to turn over in his mind, someone wanting him, especially someone he wanted so desperately. But it felt nice, even if a little unbelievable, a little hard to let himself trust. He shot Richie a thank you text and got his materials prepared.

He ended up having a couple of students come in, which was good, because he really needed to get rid of some of the candy he brought, and also office hours get boring. Also, explaining concepts and going over quiz results helped pass the time; when he was alone, he spent his time wishing the time would fly, wishing he could just see Richie already. Well, wishing he could get home. He had a surprise planned that he needed to get in place.

Mercifully, he was finally able to leave. He spent the drive home vibrating with anticipation.

He got home and got in the shower, going through the usual routine of cleaning himself out he performed before seeing Richie. He also moisturized, then got dressed in some loungewear before heading into his bedroom. Richie had an outfit picked out for him, which was an amazing feeling. It made him breathe easier. Not only did he not have to worry and panic over what to wear, but just the thought of the submission that came with letting Richie pick his clothes made him feel like floating. He loved that Richie would do the thinking for him, that Richie would help him, like Mike was this helpless little thing Richie was happy to take care of. It relieved Mike of so much stress, being able to turn off his brain like that, having someone who wanted to take care of him. 

It had him so relaxed, his skin already buzzing. He was half hard as he pulled his sweats off and grabbed his lube and his toy. He tried to take his time fingering himself open, and he was careful enough, but the thought of Richie finding that toy inside of him, the thought of Richie controlling how fast it went had him fingering himself open hard and fast, desperate to get the toy inside of himself. It slid in smoothly, and Mike sighed once it was settled inside him at a nice angle. He turned it on just a little, testing it out, but he was trying to last, so he turned it off and left it in. The end of it rested teasingly against his perineum, and he was already squirming as he pulled his sweats on. Fuck, this was gonna be hard. But it was also gonna be really fun.

He smiled when he saw Richie’s text saying he was on his way. He sent him the link to the download for the app that he would use to control the vibrator with no explanation other than a heart emoji. He was just finishing up sorting out his hair when he heard a knock on the door.

Mike had barely opened the door before he was being lightly pushed back into his apartment, the door slamming behind Richie as he grabbed Mike’s face and kissed him, hard and needy. It had Mike’s knees growing weak, and he couldn’t help but smile against Richie’s lips. “Did you get daddy a present, kitten?” Richie purred as he backed Mike against a wall. Mike let out a little whine as Richie kissed down his neck. “You almost made me crash my car, holy fuck.”

“Do you wanna see it?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, fuck, of course,” Richie laughed. But he stopped Mike when he went to take his clothes off, meeting his eye, more sober and less dick drunk now. “But are you sure? I thought you didn’t wanna do any stuff in public.” He was running his hands comfortingly over Mike’s arms, and it made him feel so warm, so safe. “I don’t want you to do something you’re not cool with just because you think I’ll like it.”

Mike surged forward and kissed him. “I know.” And he did. “But I want to.” It surprised him, but he did want it; he wanted to be under Richie’s control, wanted to see how badly Richie wanted him in a context other than the bedroom. He wanted Richie to give him that look while they were out around other people, wanted to feel like Richie wanted  _ him _ out of anyone else. And the thought of challenging himself and being good for Richie had his cock aching. “I know the safewords if I need them,” Mike reassured him. Richie nodded, nuzzling his nose against Mike’s. 

“I’ll stay close to you in case you need to use the nonverbal one, yeah?”

Mike grinned and nodded, kissing Richie again. Letting his voice shift into that cotton candy tone, he said, “Thank you, daddy.” 

Mike giggled giddily when Richie growled and grabbed at his clothes, tugging them off gracelessly. “Fuck, baby, of course.” He kissed down Mike’s neck and all over his chest and stomach as he dropped to his knees. “Now let daddy see you.” It wasn’t much of a command, since Richie pulled Mike’s sweats down for him, but it still made Mike’s cock hard, and it bounced against his stomach as his sweats pooled around his ankles. Richie got distracted by the sight for a moment, pausing to press a kiss to Mike’s tip before helping him step out of his pants. Mike leaned against the wall as he did so, not trusting his legs when Richie was on his knees in front of him like that. Once he was free of his sweats, Mike spread his legs, letting Richie see the end of the pink toy. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of Mike’s thigh, making him sigh. Mike wanted more, but Richie apparently had other plans. He dipped into the shopping bag he’d brought with him and pulled out a pair of red mesh panties with a small bow on the front. “Thought they were appropriate for the holiday,” Richie said with a grin that told Mike he was proud of himself. Mike giggled at Richie helped him step into them, already too far into his  _ yes, daddy _ headspace to roll his eyes. The next thing Richie pulled out was a white turtleneck, which Mike thought was very cute, if an odd choice for a sexy look. But it made sense when he pulled out the main feature: a pink plaid dress. “Thought you looked so pretty in those dresses at Bev’s,” Richie explained in response to Mike’s wide eyed look. “Can you step in for daddy, sweetheart?” Mike eagerly did so, then let Richie drag the dress up his body. Richie went slow, making the process both sweet and sensual at the same time. He situated the straps carefully over Mike’s shoulders then gently turned him around, zipping him up. Mike gasped as the fabric hugged his body, following every curve and dip as the zipper went up and up, wrapping Mike up all snug. He flushed as Richie ran his hands back down over Mike’s body, dipping low on his hips, cupping his ass. The low whistle he let out made Mike smile softly to himself. “One last thing, angel.” Mike turned around and helped Richie slide a pair of white thigh high socks up his legs. He let out a small moan when Richie kissed his thighs just between the top of the socks and the hem of Mike’s dress. Richie stood up and admired his work. “God, baby, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t believe I’m gonna wait until after dinner to fuck you.”

Mike blushed. “Can I go look?”

“Of course,” Richie grinned, giving him a kiss. 

Mike smiled and took him by the hand, leading him into his bedroom so he could look into his mirror. Once he saw himself, his breath caught in his throat. Mike never wore especially tight clothes, so this dress was new. And he was shocked to find that he didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate the way he looked when his body was on display like this. In fact, he really liked the way the dress looked on him. He turned a bit, peeking at the way the fabric hugged his ass, and even he could admit that it looked kind of nice. The band of exposed skin between the end of the dress and the tops of his socks looked even better.

“Do you like it, baby?” Richie asked, a knowing grin on his face as he stepped up behind Mike and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Yeah,” Mike answered softly. But he bit his lip, and a small furrow formed between his eyebrows. 

“Everything okay?” Richie asked. “You worried you’re gonna ruin some Valentine’s Days by making everyone look at you instead of their dates?” With a dramatic gasp, he asked, “Shit, are you gonna leave me for your reflection? I wouldn’t blame you, but it would still hurt.”

Mike humored Richie with an amused grin, but it fell soon. “It’s just… I’ve never worn a dress in public.” His cheeks turned red as he said it; it honestly kind of complemented his outfit. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Richie assured him as he kissed his cheek. “We can get you into something else for dinner, then get you back into this at my place.”

Mike shook his head. “No, no, I… I want to. I like the way it looks.” He couldn’t deny that it was scary. But hey, they lived in LA; a queer guy wearing a dress wasn’t likely to draw much attention. Still, hometowns die hard. “Just, you know… social conditioning.”

Richie nodded sagely, meeting Mike’s gaze in the mirror. “You can take the boy out of small town Indiana, but you can’t take small town Indiana out of the boy?”

“Something like that,” Mike smiled wryly. He turned in Richie’s arms and kissed him, long and slow and deep. “I really do like it.”

“You look fucking amazing.”

Mike didn’t know if he’d ever think of himself as  _ amazing  _ looking, but Richie had picked out a nice outfit, and it fit him well. He felt good in it. “Dinner?” he asked.

They got Richie’s phone hooked up to the toy before leaving Mike’s apartment. They didn’t even make it to the car before Richie started playing with it. Mike gasped and leaned into Richie for support as they got to his car, making Richie chuckle lowly. He turned it back off and opened Mike’s door for him, helping him into his seat as Mike blushed and gave him a glare with absolutely no heat behind it. 

Richie was a skilled driver, even with one hand, so he was able to tease Mike a little on the ride there. “D-daddy,” Mike whined breathlessly, grabbing at Richie’s shoulder, “please, I-I don’t wanna be hard when we get there.”

“Oh, are you hard, baby?” Richie asked, his voice teasing, feigning innocence. Mike let out a small cry and grabbed at his seat as Richie slid his hand up Mike’s thigh, up his dress, and teased him over his panties. “Aw, you are! You’re so cute, baby, such an easy little boy for me.”

“Daddy,” he whined again, pouting now. He was squirming on the toy now; the vibrations felt so nice, and he really wanted more. But he was already verging on messy, and they had to walk past people.

Thankfully—or tragically, Mike couldn’t decide—Richie let up and turned the toy off. He took Mike’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles as Mike caught his breath. He had his boner under control by the time they got to the restaurant, but he was still desperate to climb into Richie’s lap, to lay against his chest and be close to him. To feel Richie’s hands all over him.

It was a fairly nice place, nothing black tie, but Richie had managed to book a table in the back, where there were booths that prevented views from most angles. It was also a circular booth, so they were able to sit close to each other, which Mike appreciated. He needed to be close to Richie in the state he was in. The lack of eyes on them made it a lot easier for him to relax, and he cuddled into Richie’s side as soon as they were seated. “Oh my god, you are so precious, kitten,” Richie chuckled, pulling Mike close and kissing his hair. His words sang with an affection that made Mike melt. Richie had a fond glimmer in his eyes as he looked down at Mike and cooed in a low voice, “Do you like being close to daddy?” Mike grinned like he was tipsy and nodded, snuggling into Richie. God, he never wanted Richie to stop looking at him like that. Richie pulled him close. “I’m so lucky to have you, baby. Such a sweet little boy.”

“Really?” Mike asked; it was honestly hard to believe. He felt like Richie showered him with every gift in the world. He couldn’t believe he made Richie feel good just by accepting them, just by wanting Richie close.

“Of course, angel,” Richie murmured, kissing Mike. In a lower voice, he told him, “You’re always so good for daddy.”

Mike gasped as the toy started vibrating inside of him. Richie let out a content sigh as Mike clung to him, burying his face in Richie’s shoulder. But then Mike’s brain caught up with what was happening, and he looked around frantically to see if anyone saw them. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay, baby, daddy’s got you,” Richie soothed him, petting his hair. “Do you wanna stop?”

Mike bit his lip and shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “please don’t stop.”

“Aw, does it feel good?” 

Mike just barely managed to suppress his moan as Richie turned the toy up. Mike grinded down on it, desperately trying to get it to brush against his prostate. But just when he thought he was making progress, Richie turned the vibe off completely. “Daddy,” Mike whined in a hushed, indignant voice. His pout was grumpy now, upset that he couldn’t chase that good feeling he’d just had. He tried rolling his hips, which did something, but it was more work than it was worth. The way Richie laughed at his efforts, however, was well worth it.

“Are you getting bratty with me, babydoll?” he whispered in Mike’s ear.

Mike huffed. He wanted to be good, but he also wanted  _ more _ . “It felt so good, daddy,” he said in a soft voice, still somewhat wary of other people hearing them. The music was at a decent volume, and he couldn’t hear any other patrons, save for the occasional boisterous laugh, but he really didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable by letting them know what was going on at his and Richie’s table.

“Aw, I know, baby. But we haven’t even ordered yet. You don’t want anyone to see you making a mess of yourself, do you? You don’t wanna sit through dinner with come all over your pretty little dress.”

Mike stifled a moan, but Richie was close enough to hear it. And he was definitely close enough to see the way Mike pressed his legs together and pulled at the hem of his dress.

Richie’s voice was lower as he told Mike, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, daddy’s gonna make a mess of you when we get home. But right now I need you to behave for me. Can you do that, sweetheart? Can you be a good boy for daddy?” Mike looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded; there was nothing he wanted more than to please Richie. He wanted to do whatever Richie told him to do. “Of course you can,” Richie grinned, giving Mike a kiss. “You’re so good at being a good boy for me.” Mike felt like he was glowing, and he hid his burning face in Richie’s shoulder for a moment. “Do you want daddy to order for you?” Richie asked.

“Yes, please,” Mike whispered, giggling when Richie kissed his nose.

They behaved themselves as the night went on, never giving anything away to the waitress. Richie had his hand on Mike’s thigh at one point when she came by, but she didn’t seem to notice. And Richie always turned the toy off when she came by, which Mike appreciated.

But when she wasn’t there, Richie was having a lot of fun with Mike. Mike took a sip of champagne, and just after he swallowed and set his glass down, Richie turned the toy up, making him lean forward and grip the table for support. Richie laughed and let up, leaving Mike on a low vibration. He caught his breath, settling into the steady pace. God, he loved this. He loved the feeling of it, loved the feeling of them being in their own world, having a secret only the two of them were in on. But mostly he loved how much fun Richie was clearly having with him. He upped the speed just a bit as Mike ate, gradually, until he was biting down on his lip to keep himself quiet and grinding against the seat.

“Aw, baby, you’re shaking,” Richie cooed. “Let daddy help you.” He gently took the fork out of Mike’s hand and cupped his chin, bringing his gaze toward Richie. He watched through hooded eyes as Richie scooped some pasta onto Mike’s fork. He looked at Mike with hungry eyes and said in a soothing but stern voice, “Open, baby.” Mike did as he was told and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out a little more than he needed to. He wasn’t interested in dinner anymore; he wanted to be in Richie’s bed getting fucked until he was a drooling mess. But he kept eating, kept playing into the game Richie was clearly enjoying.

But he broke when Richie suggested dessert. “No, daddy,” he whined, his legs pressed together, his feet stomping just a bit as he looked at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. 

“Somebody’s whiny today,” Richie teased with a kiss to Mike’s nose. “You trying to get daddy to put you in your place, angel?” Mike slapped a hand over his own mouth as Richie turned up the vibrator. Richie slid his hand easily between Mike’s thighs, which just made things worse. Well, better, but the being quiet thing got harder.

“Daddy, I can’t,” Mike whispered, sounding just as wrecked as he felt. His legs were shaking, and his cock was achingly hard. He didn’t want any precome leaking through the front of his dress. “Please.” Mike breathed a sigh of relief when the toy shut off, but he ached for more, his cheeks flushed. 

Richie stroked Mike’s hair and kissed his forehead. “You want daddy to take you home, sweetheart?” Mike nodded, pouting up at Richie. Smirking, Richie teased, “You sure? You don’t wanna go to the pier, see the ferris wheel?” Richie laughed as Mike whined and buried himself in Richie’s chest. “Okay, okay, I was joking.” He leaned down and whispered in Mike’s ear, “You know I need you just as bad, kitten.” Taking Mike lightly by the wrist, he guided Mike’s hand under the table, onto Richie’s lap. Mike gasped as he felt how hard Richie was. Fuck, he needed him  _ now. _

Waiting for the check was torture, but it also gave them some time to let their boners die down before walking out of the restaurant. Once they were back in the car though, all bets were off, and Richie had his hands all over Mike, even as he was driving. And when he wasn’t running his hand up Mike’s thigh, sliding up his dress, he was playing with the speed on the vibrator. He kept Mike a squirming mess for the whole ride, to the point where Mike pressed himself against Richie’s back as they hurried, giggling, through the lobby of Richie’s building to hide his boner from anyone they might see.

Richie lifted Mike into his arms as soon as they were in his apartment, making Mike breathless. He kissed Richie desperately as he clung to him. The feeling of Richie’s hands on his thighs had Mike rutting up against Richie, trying his best to get some relief. But then they were in Richie’s bedroom, and Richie was setting Mike down on his feet. He raked Mike’s dress up as he did so, running his hands over Mike’s thighs. “God, you’re so pretty, baby,” Richie murmured, drinking Mike in. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah? Let daddy see you.” Mike nodded and turned around so that Richie could undo the zipper on his dress. He even shook his hips a little more than he needed to, taking himself by surprise. He wasn’t used to showing himself off like that, but Richie made him feel like he was worth showing off. Richie made him feel good about himself—and what  _ really  _ made Mike feel good about himself was the way Richie looked at him, the way he moaned and grabbed Mike’s hips, pressing Mike’s ass against his own hard cock. Mike gasped and grinded back against him, desperate for Richie to fuck him. Richie laughed behind him. “I know, baby, I know, just let daddy get your clothes off first and then I promise I’ll play with you.”

They both hurried to get Mike’s clothes off, as well as Richie’s, until Mike was on his back on Richie’s bed in nothing but his thigh high socks. Richie loomed above him in just his boxers, running his hands reverently over Mike’s body. “So pretty, baby,” Richie marveled. But just when Mike thought he was going to touch him, he got off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Mike asked, his voice already strained as he sat up.

“Just getting some things,” Richie assured him with a soothing kiss to his thigh. He reached under his bed and rummaged around, out of Mike’s sight. Then he popped up, two silk ribbons in his hands. Mike shivered at the sight. He whimpered when Richie climbed on top of him and took him by the wrists, gently but firmly guiding them together, then above his head. Richie gave him a soft kiss before telling him, “Daddy’s gonna have so much fun with you tonight, sweetheart. Gonna make you feel so good.” Mike’s heart raced as he felt the softness of the silk wrap around his wrists as Richie tied them to one of the posts of his headboard. “How’s that feel, baby?” Richie asked, pulling slowly tighter until Mike was gasping. Richie smirked. “Yeah? Does that feel good?” 

Mike nodded and bit his lip, letting out a small, “Mhm.” Richie finished tying the knot and pressed another kiss to Mike's lips before sitting back and admiring his work, running his hands over Mike’s chest and sides and stomach. “Can you knock on the headboard for me, baby? Need to make sure you can tell me if something’s wrong.” Mike did as he was told, rapping his knuckles back against the headboard, the knocks sounding out loud in the room. “Good boy,” Richie praised him, giving him a kiss on his forehead before sitting back again, his hands wandering as they pleased over Mike’s body. Mike loved this, loved being all spread out and vulnerable for Richie. He loved that he didn’t need to worry about anything, he didn’t need to fret over how to give Richie what he wanted; Richie was going to  _ take  _ what he wanted from Mike, and the thought made Mike feel dizzy with want. 

This was so different from any other relationship in his life, any dynamic he’d ever had. Everyone who knew Mike knew about his control issues. Everyone knew Mike liked things his way, that he naturally took the lead, and he guessed his previous partners had been attracted to that, because that’s what they looked for from him in the bedroom. But Richie didn’t expect that at all. Richie knew Mike in a near bubble, saw him exclusively how he was one-on-one, how he had always wanted to be in bed, in a relationship. The thought of this being a relationship made his heart race—he really wanted this to be a relationship.

Richie’s hand on Mike’s cheek brought him back to earth. “You with me?” he asked, his brow furrowed. 

“Yeah,” Mike answered with a nod. “Just excited.”

Richie’s face eased a bit, but not completely. “You looked like you were thinking about something. You wanna talk about it? Or do you want me to turn that pretty little genius brain off?” He grinned and ran his hand lightly over Mike’s skin, not pushing him one way or another. But Mike could already feel himself floating down toward the second option.

“I want you,” he sighed.

“Yeah?” Richie smirked. “What do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

“Touch me,” Mike answered easily, his voice caught between a sigh and whine. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

Mike’s body sang as he watched Richie’s eyes darken. He cursed under his breath and dipped his head down, trailing kisses up Mike’s stomach, chest, neck, until he was mouthing under Mike’s jaw, making him whimper and squirm, pulling uselessly at the silk. Looking Mike in the eye, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” 

Richie kissed him then, and Mike happily leaned up into it as best he could. Richie’s lips were warm and soft and intentional. Mike chased him for a moment as he pulled away, always wanting more. Once his brain caught up, he opened his eyes to find Richie holding the other silk ribbon, looking at Mike attentively. Richie let their gazes linger for a moment, making sure Mike was focused on him before bringing the ribbon forward. Mike gasped lightly when he realized the ribbon was going around his eyes. He looked to Richie once more before letting his eyes fall shut. The silk was cool and smooth against his skin, and the feeling of it made Mike’s cock throb. He lifted his head when Richie told him to, feeling the heat emanate off of Richie’s skin as he leaned over him, tying a knot behind Mike’s head. “How’s that feel, angel?” Richie asked. Mike let his head fall back.

“Good,” he said, his voice soft around the edges. Or maybe that was just the way it sounded to him. Everything felt soft just then. He was honestly surprised it didn’t make him nervous, being tied up and blindfolded, so completely not in control. And maybe it did make his heart race a little, but mostly it made him feel like his skin was buzzing. Every little touch was so much more intense, and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it, _didn’t_ _have_ to do anything about it made his chest swell. Richie ran his hands over Mike’s chest and sides, helping him relax until he felt like he was melting into the mattress. It lulled Mike, made his brain go a little hazy, until suddenly his hands went away. Mike whimpered, but Richie gave him a soft, reassuring, “Shh, baby, daddy’s here,” that let him know he was still close. The sound of Richie’s voice was like a blanket around Mike, keeping him warm and safe. He could feel Richie moving then, shifting slightly, but he couldn’t tell exactly where he was or what he was doing. Then, without warning, Mike felt Richie’s tongue, warm and wet, dragging across one of his nipples. He nearly yelped at the feeling, his body twitching. It felt amazing, and it was all the more intense not knowing that it was going to happen. He loved watching Richie, loved being able to hold onto his hair, but this was an experience all its own. He could really concentrate on the feeling of Richie’s mouth on his skin now. And _fuck_ , Richie knew how to use his mouth. He sucked gently on Mike’s nipple while teasing the other one between his fingers, taking his time. It had Mike a whimpering mess so fast, pulling at the silk, wriggling his hips, desperate for more.

Mike barely noticed Richie slip his hand away. 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ !” Mike shouted, his body jolting as the vibrator jumped suddenly to life inside of him. “Daddy,  _ daddy _ , oh my fucking god,” Mike rambled. He tried to cross his legs, but Richie stopped him with his hands on Mike’s thighs. “Oh, oh fuck, shit, daddy, daddy  _ please _ .” It was all so much, and Mike had been waiting all night. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, daddy, pleaseplease _ please _ .” He felt just about ready to cry; with no idea where Richie was or what he was doing, no way of grabbing onto him, Mike beared the full force of the vibrator, and it was all he could focus on. Richie slowed it down gradually, then let it stop before slowly, gently pulling it out of Mike, who whimpered at the empty feeling.

As Mike caught his breath, he was vaguely aware of the sound of the cap of the lube bottle popping open. “You’ve been so good for me tonight, baby boy,” Richie murmured, his light kisses making heat bloom over Mike’s skin. “Gonna take such good care of you.” The words made Mike feel like he was floating. He loved when Richie talked to him like that, when he used that voice. It made him feel so safe and wanted—and really fucking needy, but in the nicest way, like it was something to be proud of instead of something to hide. 

Bringing him back to his body, Mike felt Richie pushing inside of him with two fingers. Mike took them easily, all stretched out from the toy. Mike always loved when Richie fingered him, but being blindfolded made it feel even better. He spread his legs eagerly, his mind swimming from how good Richie’s fingers felt inside of him, brushing against his walls in all the right ways, hitting all the right spots. Mike bit his lip and moaned, rocking his hips, seeking more. There was something so dirty and amazing about Richie fingering him, like Mike was his toy to play with, and that feeling was even more intense with his hands tied. He was well and truly laid out for Richie to do whatever he wanted to him, and the thought had him drooling, his mind going fuzzy as his body went limp, his legs open and eager. “God, you look so pretty, kitten,” Richie murmured, his voice swimming through to Mike through the fog in his brain, making him glow from the praise. “Look at you, opening your legs so wide for daddy, such a good little slut.” Mike moaned at that, desperate and aching for more. “Aw, I know, baby, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

Mike pouted and nodded, managing a slightly slurred, “Yes, daddy,” as Richie pressed a third finger inside of him, stretching him out. It made Mike’s cock ache and twitch, and he suddenly became aware of the pool of precome gathering on his stomach as Richie scissored his fingers, prepping Mike for his cock. Just as Mike was getting lost in the feeling, he suddenly felt Richie’s warm, plush lips wrap around the head of his cock. He cried out, his body jerking in response to the sudden pleasure. He moaned and squirmed as Richie ran his lips over Mike’s cock, teasing his tongue just under the head, all while he fingered Mike open, moving smoothly in and out of him, pressing in deeper and deeper, curling his fingers in just the right way. “God, fuck, daddy!” Mike cried out, the pleasure overwhelming. He whimpered pathetically when Richie pulled his mouth off with a small laugh.

“God, you’re cute,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to Mike’s chest that made him gasp. “So easy and responsive for me.”

“Daddy,” Mike whimpered, rolling his hips. He needed more, and he needed it  _ now _ . He needed everything Richie could give him. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” Richie asked in that low voice that Mike could never get enough of. “Tell daddy what you want.”

Mike let out an indignant whine at having to use his words, but he not-so-secretly loved how Richie made him beg. “I want you to fuck me!” he cried, tugging at his restraints impatiently. The wait had been so long, and Mike just wanted the tension to break, he wanted to completely submit to Richie, to go as far as he could. And the words came tumbling out, almost without thought. “I want you to hit me and choke and fuck me,” he pleaded. “Please, daddy, I just wanna be a good toy for you, don’t wanna think anymore, just want you to use me,  _ please _ .” Richie’s hands were on him then, and his touch soothed Mike’s squirming, made his breaths come more easily.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me, you know that?” He kissed Mike as he slowly slid his fingers out of him, and the praise made him feel so good, distracting him from how empty he was. Richie pulled away to sit up, but he kept a hand on Mike at all times so he knew he was still there. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, daddy’s gonna use you just the way you want.” Mike let out a choked out cry as he felt the head of Richie’s cock press up against his hole. He barely hesitated before pushing in. Mike took him in eagerly, his racing heart slowing as he finally got what he’d been needing all night. All the tension left his body as Richie pressed all the way in, filling Mike up, his soft moans all the more pronounced in Mike’s ears thanks to the blindfold. “God, been wanting this all night, baby,” he moaned as he pulled out. “So fucking pretty in that little dress, wanted to bend you over as soon as I saw you in it.” Mike was never good at accepting compliments, so he loved that Richie didn’t expect him to say anything; he could just let them wash over him, pulling him gently down into that soft space as Richie pumped his cock in and out of him, slowly at first, then getting faster, pressing as deep as he could, pulling a broken moan from Mike’s lips. “Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned, “you take it so fucking good. Fucking sucking my cock right in. You really needed it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mike moaned, slurring his words from the effort of forming them at all. 

Richie shushed him and stroked his cheek, then ran his thumb over Mike’s lips. “Shh, sweetheart, daddy’s taking care of you, yeah? Turn that pretty little mind off, daddy’s got you.” Mike moaned and nodded, happily sucking on Richie’s thumb as he ran it over Mike’s tongue. “See, baby? You’re so good at doing what daddy wants. Such a good little doll for daddy.” Just as Mike was getting lost in the praise, Richie’s voice dropped as he said, “And dolls don’t need to talk, do they?” Mike melted at that, an eager whine falling from his lips. He was about to shake his head, but before his mind could catch up Richie was slipping his thumb out of Mike’s mouth and smacking him gently on the cheek. Mike let out a loud moan, his back arching off of the bed. The pain was light, but completely unexpected. It had his heart racing and his cock absolutely throbbing. “Fuck, you liked that, didn’t you, princess?” Richie marveled. He hit Mike again, then a second time, each time getting harder, making Mike moan even louder, his hips rocking aimlessly. Richie held him down easily with one hand on his hips, fucking into him even harder now. “Look at you, so pretty and eager to let me do anything I want to you. Just wanna be full of daddy’s come, huh?”

“ _ Yes _ , daddy, yes,” Mike cried, soft pleasure surrounding him. It was less the pain of it than the dominance that made Mike feel like he was floating, made his skin buzz, made him want more.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Richie cooed, his tone both sweet and patronizing as he slid his hand over Mike’s jaw until it rested against Mike’s throat. “What did I just say?” He wrapped his fingers around Mike’s neck and pressed under the sides of his jaw, making things go even fuzzier. Mike let out a choked out moan as Richie’s lips ghosted over his. “No need for you to talk, baby. Just lie there and be the pretty little cocksleeve you’re so good at being, yeah?” Mike nodded as best as he could, but Richie’s hand on his throat, the way he was talking to him, the way he was fucking him, it all had Mike feeling like he was leaving his body. He felt so  _ good _ , it was overwhelming in the best way. It was all he could think about until he couldn’t think anymore, until he was just basking in the pleasure of Richie using him. Of knowing he was making Richie feel good. Richie loosened his hold to let Mike breathe intermittently, taking breaks to run his hands over Mike’s body and tell him how good he felt. “Fuck, baby, so fucking pretty for me,” he moaned, “and so  _ tight _ , fuck, you’re so good for daddy, baby. Such a soft, gorgeous little cumdump, sweetheart.” Mike moaned at everything Richie said, vaguely aware that his cock was painfully hard, but way too far gone to have any words, or to stop the noises he was making from endlessly ringing out in the air, along with the obscene, wet sound of Richie fucking him. “Yeah, that’s it, baby, so sweet like this. Love seeing you all cute and stupid for me, angel. You’re so pretty when you’re too dick drunk to talk.” The simultaneous praise and degradation had Mike spreading his legs even wider, silently begging for more. And he only melted deeper into the pleasure when Richie laughed at his reaction. “God, I love how hard you get just from being used,” Richie purred. “Just gotta hit you a little and call you pretty and you make such a mess for me.” Mike cried out as Richie teased his finger over Mike’s cock. He hadn’t realized how bad he needed to be touched, not in the floaty space he was lost in. But now his pleasure was cresting, peaking in every nerve in his body, and with just a few more strokes of the tip of Richie’s finger under the head of his cock Mike was coming,  _ hard _ . He saw white as his body seized, sobs falling from his lips as pleasure crashed over him, rocking him like a wave as he pulled uselessly at the silk around his wrists. 

He was shaking as he came down, Richie’s hands soothing over his skin even as he continued fucking Mike through his orgasm. “Fuck, baby, you’re fucking perfect,” Richie moaned. Mike could hear the strain in his voice, how turned on he clearly was, and it made him smile through the burning blush on his cheeks. He felt like he was floating in sun-warmed water, and Richie’s moans tethered him, kept him in that warm place as he leaned into Mike, his face in Mike’s neck, his lips soft on the skin that had just been trapped under his hands minutes before. “Such a good little boy for me, princess, gonna make daddy come.” Mike whined eagerly, tightening around Richie’s cock to encourage him. “Oh, fuck, baby, yes,  _ yes _ .” Mike let out a soft moan as he felt Richie’s warm come filling him up. He felt so amazing, knowing he’d made Richie come like that, feeling Richie kissing his neck so softly as he caught his breath. He let himself sink into the feeling, snuggling into Richie’s hair. 

He must have drifted off for a minute, because before he knew it Richie was stroking his face and saying his name softly. “Mikey, baby, you with me?” Mike let out a small hum and nodded as best he could. “There he is, good boy,” Richie said, the smile clear in his voice. He kissed the tip of Mike’s nose, and Mike let out a little giggle, starting to come back to himself. “Can you let daddy take your blindfold off, baby?” 

Mike managed a little, “Okay,” this time. Richie had to help him lift his head as he undid the knot, but he was coming back mentally, even if he was still physically drained. 

“Keep your eyes closed for a second, okay, sweetheart? I turned the lights down, but it still might be bright for you.” Mike did what he was told, grateful for the guidance, grateful that Richie was always looking out for him. The silk left his eyes, and he let the light hit his eyelids for a moment or two before slowly blinking them open. He immediately searched for Richie, and smiled softly, almost drunkenly when they met eyes. His hair was a mess, sweat sticking to his curls that he tossed back as best he could, and he still had a flush on his chest. He looked so beautiful. “Hi, baby,” Richie smiled, stroking Mike’s face. Mike leaned into it, drawn instinctively into Richie’s touch. “You did so good for me, sweetheart,” Richie murmured. Mike almost felt like crying from how happy it made him to hear that. Richie kissed him, and Mike could feel the small smile still on his lips. “Now, I’m gonna take your arms down, but you gotta let them down nice and slow for me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Mike said in a small voice, still feeling a little faraway.

“Good boy,” Richie said with a kiss to Mike’s forehead. “Don’t worry, daddy will help you.”

Sure enough, there was an ache in Mike’s arms as Richie slowly guided them down, but it was a good ache. The silk had been pretty gentle on Mike’s wrists, but Richie still rubbed lotion onto them, and Mike was happy to feel Richie’s hands on him, massaging his sore muscles, grounding him. Taking care of him. It was the easiest thing to fall into.

Richie let Mike rest against him once he was done, petting his hair. “You know, we never had dessert,” he said. Mike hummed. He was a little hungry, thinking about it. He really didn’t wanna move though. “Think you can let daddy carry you to the couch? We can get some food in you, maybe watch something? I got some brownies from this great bakery downtown, I think you’ll really like ‘em. Does that sound good, baby?” Mike nodded; fuck, a brownie sounded amazing. “Good,” Richie grinned, pressing a kiss to Mike’s hair. “Okay, now the hard part: we gotta get up to get to the brownies.” He laughed as Mike groaned and hid his face in Richie’s neck. “Okay, okay, you want me to bring them to you? I just wanna get some food in you before we go to bed. Won’t even make you brush your teeth if you don’t want to, holiday treat.”

Mike agreed eagerly. Brownies then sleep without ever leaving the bed sounded like the perfect agenda to him. 

Richie ended up mostly feeding Mike as he laid between Richie’s legs. Richie’s chest was warm and sturdy as Mike leaned back against him, his embrace just tight enough to give Mike the reassurance he needed. And as they giggled together, Richie pressing kisses all over Mike’s hair, Mike thought that being with Richie like this was so nice that he was almost scared to get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!! school and fic writing don't mesh for me ): my school picks back up on january 4th so tbh i have no idea when the next update will be, but im excited for where the story's headed, so hopefully ill get some more written soon!!
> 
> also: road head is dangerous do not do that lol

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! my tumblr is @wonderwheelzier if you wanna hmu there lol  
> okay so I haven't done a fic this long since 2014 lmao, do y'all want regular updates? or should i surprise you? school starts for me in september, so writing and posting will likely become inconsistent when that happens, but i'm trying to get a lot written in august, so hopefully it won't be too bad.  
> also. this might get lowkey weird, idk lol. i promise it will be lowkey tho. i guess weird is subjective lol. i'll make sure to put each kink in the notes at the beginning of each chapter in case its not your thing, and smut chapters probably won't be too plot heavy. if they are, i can give plot summaries in the notes at the end, or markers for when the kink starts. please lmk if this would be helpful!  
> finally, bc i know why you're here, i'm just gonna let yall know there's not gonna be smut for a few chapters lmao, gotta let it build. but there will be so much smut once it comes lol  
> hope you all like it!! thanks again for reading!!


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